


Runes

by YumeNouveau



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1800s AU, Anal Sex, Bisexual Remus Lupin, Classroom Sex, Coming Untouched, Diverse Characters, First Time Bottoming, Hogwarts AU, M/M, Magical School AU, Mystery, Oblivious, Pining, Professor Remus, Professor Sirius, Sick Character, fancy clothes, victorian au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-11-14 04:51:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18045818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YumeNouveau/pseuds/YumeNouveau
Summary: In 1860 Hogwarts is a prestigious and diverse learning environment filled with bright young minds and forward thinking wizards.  When Remus takes a job teaching Herbology, an incredibly annoying yet roguishly handsome Professor Sirius Black has inexplicably taken a keen interest in him.  For whatever reason he can't seem to say no to this man and finds himself surrounded by friends and companionship for the first time in his life.  But something mysterious is happening under the castle eves and Remus and Sirius take it upon themselves to discover an evil hiding in plain sight.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the wonderful fest moderators for hosting the Remus Lupin Fest and also for the amazing beta talents of ShadowPrince, you are a comma wizard! My prompt was "Hogwarts Professors"

Remus sighed loudly, shifting from foot to boot-clad foot. He hadn’t moved a centimeter in the past ten minutes and yet he was the only other person in line. How difficult could it be for an adult man to use the damn floo? But no, the stranger in question seemed to be having a gay old time chatting up the vivacious tavern owner, as they both leaned against the fireplace, blocking his path. A delicate female laugh floated to his ears and Remus turned his head to the sky-- make that dusty ceiling beams--for guidance. A spider fell onto his nose.

After a short but triumphant battle Remus stopped batting at his face and turned back to the fire, straightening his vest. Both the tavern keep and man who monopolized the floo were standing and staring at him, the later with a huge grin on his smug face. Remus ignored it.

“Are you quite done yet?” he asked, waving a gloved hand at the fireplace they still blocked.

“Are you?” the man returned, trying his patience further. Luckily the stranger was quite tall but not wide, for he only took a single step to the side, just enough room for Remus to levitate his trunk into the stone chamber.

“There was a spider,” Remus began to explain with a finger to the ceiling before deciding the man was not worth the effort. A beautiful face often revealed a lack of wit beneath and Remus had no time to dally. He was expected at Hogwarts at… he pulled out his pocket watch. Which had stopped. What a glorious day.

“Madame, if you don’t mind,” Remus gestured to the floo powder on the mantle by her shoulder. The tavern keep, as if pulled from a trance, looked surprised before fumbling for the jar and handing it over.

“Of course,” she said to Remus before turning to the stranger. “Visit again, I miss you.” The rogue had the audacity to wink at her before she turned in a flurry of skirts and strode back to the entrance. Remus could not help but roll his eyes as he pushed past the man.

“Unless you’d like to accompany me to work, I suggest you stand clear,” Remus recommended, staring pointedly at the other man’s shockingly silver eyes. He blinked and felt like he’d lost time. 

The man held out a hand, long fingers perfectly shaped in silken gloves with a seam of gold along his elegant wrist. Remus blinked at its appearance, wondering why the man would wish to shake his hand at this juncture in time. The man laughed at his pause and it was a beautiful sound, his joy bottled then let free to infect those around himself. Well, if they were so inclined. 

“The floo powder. If you please. Unless you do wish to take it with you and deprive others of transportation.”

Remus flushed. Of course, that was silly of him. He pulled off a glove and grabbed a pinch of powder before shoving it into the other man’s outstretched hand.

“Hogsmeade,” he announced, powder flung at his feet, his mouth dry, watching the corners of the man’s lips turn up until they were consumed by green flames.

Remus stepped from the Hogsmeade inn’s fireplace and pulled his coat back into place, glad that was over and done with. Other more pressing matters needed to occupy his thoughts. Unloading his belongs, the sorting feast, and of course there was always lesson planning. Also why was suddenly green flames licking his shoes? Jumping from the heatless flame, he had enough wits about him to pull his trunk into the room before a figure took its place.

Tall, dark, smirking. Remus gave the rogue his blankest stare.

“We meet again,” the man said, tilting his head as if studying Remus. 

“All too soon.” He pushed back his shoulders, realizing the man had him beat in height and it was useless to compare, before turning away to see to his luggage.

“Are you a first year Hogwarts professor then?” the man asked. Bravo, the man had a brain. He’d put the beginning of term date together with their proximity to the castle and correctly deduced. Remus almost wanted to give him a single clap just to be condescending. 

“What gave me away? That naive look in my eyes? The education of a hundred bright young minds weighing down my shoulders?” Remus cast levitate on his trunk so it trailed behind. It was only a short trek to the castle from here and he was anxious to be underway.

“Well, seeing as I’m a fifth year professor, it would be unlikely that you’d been teaching all this time while under my nose. I’d definitely have noticed you.”

Oh. Well that was rather curious. The man seemed less of an academic and more the adventurous sort. Perhaps the hero of a penny dreadful who solved mysteries and whisked the damsel off into the sunset by the last page. 

“I’ve shocked you I see,” the man grinned and held out a gloved hand yet again. Remus shook it this time with a bit more strength than normal, attempting to compensate for something he was not sure he was even lacking. “Sirius Black.”

“Ah,” Remus paused. “Remus Lupin. I’ll be teaching Herbology.”

“Oh I figured. Seeing as it’s the only teaching position open. Best be careful, it’s slightly cursed,” Black said with a smile that held secrets.

“Is it now?”

“Well, seeing as we’ve had five professors in as many years, I’d say so. Poor Professor Taylor was the latest, fell into a patch of sneezewort. Couldn’t get through a lecture without forgetting he was no longer a student.”

“That’s...tragic,” Remus replied with a frown. Obviously he’d known the position needed filling, but not the ruin of professors left in its wake. Not that it changed his mind in the slightest. The prestige of a teaching position at a renowned school over private tutoring was an opportunity he could not pass up. “And what do you teach, Professor Black.”

The man chuckled. “Guess.”

It was either plainly obvious or the most unlikely position possible. 

“I hate games.”

The man shrugged, his long strides causing Remus to quicken his step as they strode along the green hilled roads. 

Fine. “Defence Against the Dark Arts perhaps?”

“Got it in one,” Black acknowledged. He tucked an errant strand of hair behind one ear where it had escaped his ponytail. Remus had never seen hair with quite that shine to it. It looked expensive somehow. Actually every inch of the man screamed wealth, from the sheen of his boots, the impeccable silken cravat and jade jeweled pin, to the fashionable greatcoat cloak that combined muggle and wizard fashion in all the latest style. Though wearing his best clothes, Remus felt shabby in comparison. He disliked the man more for it. Standing next to him felt like judgement.

He took an extra stride to walk faster. Black easily kept pace.

“At which school did you teach before this?” Black asked, silver eyes glancing to the side, sizing him up.

“I was a private tutor,” Remus said as proudly as he could. 

“Oh.”

“A rather affluent family actually, I had rooms at their estate and taught their two children. It was a very comfortable arrangement.” 

“That sounds rather lovely,” Black replied and Remus was not quite sure if the man was being sincere or so subtly condescending that it was untraceable.

“It was.”

“I’m not sure I could easily give that up, even to teach here,” Black replied.

Remus felt the man was fishing for his reasons for leaving and didn’t wish to bite. Instead he shrugged. “It’s a wonderful opportunity.”

“Unless you fall in the sneezewort.”

“By all means, feel free to forgo your own lectures and oversee my teaching, I shall feel like a student all over again.”

“And where did you attend?” Black asked as they neared the castle gate. The man looked at Hogwarts with a startling warmth in his eyes, like coming home, a feeling Remus knew all too keenly.

“Here, Gryffindor House. And let me guess, for you. Durmstrang?”

“What gave me away?” Black chuckled.

“An ever so slight accent. Plus, I would have noticed you here,” Remus sent the phrase back. 

“Touché.” 

Both men stood in the stone entry hall, cavernous ceilings echoing only their footsteps but soon to be filled with laughter and the sound of small running feet.

“Say, you wouldn’t have dinner plans would you?” Black asked, catching Remus off guard.

He stiffened, frowning at such a forward proposition before he saw the twinkle in the other man’s eye. Damn, the rouge seemed to love getting a rise out of him. Remus ignored the quip.

“I have to let the Headmistress know I’ve arrived,” Remus said, turning with his trunk and starting up the stone steps toward her office.

“See you at dinner,” Black shouted as he walked away. Remus refused to turn.


	2. Chapter 2

The Great Feast was uncannily different seated at the head table than it had been as a student below. Dozens of small witches and wizards, decked out in their robes and hats, tittered nervously amongst themselves while the more seasoned students sat at their house tables pretending they were never as young or naive. The air smelled of fresh bread, spiced meat and anticipation. Candles floated high above, larger flickers in the magicked night sky. 

Headmistress Lenora Ravenclaw, descendant of the Hogwarts founder, gave a short but inspirational speech about the houses, how they were meant to breed compantionship yet not be used to define one's self. How the Sorting Hat was often fickle and chooses a house simply to even the playing field or bring out traits it sees wanting in an individual. It was more intriguing than Remus remembered and caused him to wonder upon how manufactured his said bravery and chivalry actually were. After sorting the feast commenced and everyone began to mingle and relax.

Remus sat at the long head table, strewn with a smorgasbord of jewel-like fruits, cured meats and decadent cheeses along with wine and mead from the local hillsides. To his right was a professor from his own student days, Professor Bram Cromwell, who still taught both flying and riding. Even with only one arm he was faster on broom and horseback than most and though the man couldn’t be a day under fifty, he was a peak specimen of health and viggor. His dark skin contrasted with his perfectly groomed salt and pepper beard and his jovial nature had earned each and every laugh line around his joyful honey brown eyes. 

To Remus’ left was a rather intimidating woman, Magical Literature Professor Ida Hadlee. When Remus complimented the cut of her well tailored suit and pristine cravat, instead of blushing or thanking him as ladies were wont to do, she had said quite confidently how much she agreed. Remus had burst out laughing at her rightly earned self-assurance and they’d been conversing non stop ever since. 

Further down the table, having caught Remus’ eye immediately, of course, was Sirius Black. The man had on another impeccable cloak, embroidered with faint runes around the collar and cuffs, not that Remus had looked at him in any great detail. In fact he’d done everything in his power to not engage the rogue and was having a fine time without him. Until Black charmed Remus’ olives to roll across the table like a line of invisible ants were carrying them straight to his own plate. Remus sighed and looked to Hadlee for help with pleading eyes but the woman told him to fight his own battles. 

“Right then,” Remus said, impaling an olive with his fork and popping it in his mouth before Black stole it, “Tell me about the other professors?”

Professor Hadlee cocked her head, her perfectly straight brown hair not moving a centimeter from the cascading ponytail that fell down her back like an elegant waterfall. “Well you’ll meet them all tonight, Headmistress Ravenclaw always throws a bit of a soiree in her office for the staff after the feast. But I guess it would be prudent to know a thing or two about this mad bunch beforehand.” She raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow as another olive rolled by. “I’m guessing you’ve met Black, or he’s been ‘confundused’ and mixed up introductions with stealing brined fruit.”

“Oh, we’ve met.”

“Ah, well I’ll let you form your own opinion on him then. Most of us are fairly new, many professors retired along with the previous headmaster, so the headmistress was forced to bring on a wave of new staff.”

“Yes, I believe the only ones left from my Hogwarts days are Professor Cromwell and of course Malfoy. Am I right to guess he is still teaching Transfiguration?”

“He does, I’ve heard tell that Malfoy transforms into a falcon to frighten his students almost daily. Heard he even ate a mouse in front of them once.”

“Some things never change,” Remus sighed. He’d probably steer clear of the cantankerous older man just in case.

“Quite. But many of us apply more modern tactics to teach our students. Compassion over fear and such. Well other than Marlowe, have you met him yet?”

Remus shook his head and Hadlee narrowed her eyes a bit. “Farthest left on the table you can get. In fact there’s a whole chair left open between he and Puram. Tall fellow, dressed as if his closet emptied itself all over his person.” Indeed, there sat a man whose eyes were glued to his plate of untouched meats as he poked and prodded the pile like an experiment gone awry. He wore what looked like several cloaks and his shoulders were covered in an odd assortment of colorful scarves. A contradiction, if Remus had ever seen one, as the man stood out, though it was obvious he’d rather fade into the background. Marlowe kept conversation with no one and if there was a clock on the wall Remus knew for sure the professor would be counting the minutes until he could leave without seeming too impolite.

“Silas Marlowe, teaches Divination. Rather antisocial, keeps to himself. Oh and don’t be insulted when he refuses to learn your name. He does it to us all. I’m ‘Magic Lit,’ I’m sure you will be ‘Herb’ or something of the sort. Calls his students by their hair color, gets rather confusing, especially with three blond Malfoys or a half dozen red-headed Weasleys always running around.”

Remus laughed. He could well picture the confusion and chaos the man bred in his classroom, if his wardrobe was anything to judge by. 

“That gorgeous woman on the other end is Professor Geneva, Care of Magical Creatures. She’s a bit blunt but she means well. Though, idioms and wizard jargon are not her forte, so sometimes it’s best to be just as blunt in return,” Hadlee laughed. 

“I’m sure I’d fair far worse teaching centaurs than she’s done teaching humans,” Remus replied, watching as the other professor stood tall on all four legs to reach some fruit that has been just out of reach. Her raven black hair blended seamlessly with rich dark skin and the fur not covered by her flowy cream sheath. 

“Quite,” Hadlee agreed. “Oh, and those two lovesick fools next to the headmistress are Professors Seiji Endo and Ewen Seton.” She waved a hand indicating two men who didn’t exactly meet Remus’ qualifications for ‘love sick’ though they were probably sitting half a foot closer to one another than was deemed proper to a stranger. “Met teaching here four years back, became pining fools for a year until they finally decided to court. Endo, being a vampire, can only teach at night but we’ve never had an astrology professor quite as adept. And Seton, well, he’s the Potions’ Master. Why he’s a master, I’ll never know. Say, does that make you the Herb Master?”

Remus laughed and felt Black’ eyes on him. He only gave the other man a brief glance before turning back to Hadlee who went on down the line of professors, pointing out their subjects and other vital information that Remus soon had jumbled in his over stimulated brain.

After an abundance of food and drink the slightly less nervous students were ushered off to their house dorms by the head students and the professors were given respite to retire or make their way to Lenora Ravenclaw’s office.

Back by his side as they wandered the halls, Black pointing out random portraits and had apparently decided to give Remus a decidedly inaccurate history. “That rather portly fellow on a swing is Pleseus the Playwright, though he never wrote a single play. And that woman there is Lady Frittata the Whisker of Delicious Eggs.”

“Actually,” a gentleman with long straight black hair came up from behind with a weary sigh, “they’re not. Seiji Endo, I’m no Professor of Magical Arts, but you can count on every single word out of Black’ mouth being a lie.”

“The nerve, must everyone question my limitless knowledge?”

Both men ignored Black’s feigned slight. 

“Remus Lupin,” he said, extending a hand to the other man. Endo’s skin felt thin like paper, veins prominent under the pale surface, but his grip was strong and firm.

“And this here is my partner, Professor Ewen Seton.”

“Potions,” Seton said, shaking hands as they walked. “So if you ever need a sleeping drought to slip this fool…”

“Why the devil is everyone warning Remus off me before the day is out?” Black grumbled.

“Perhaps it’s your reputation as a food thief,” Professor Hadlee said, coming up beside them. 

“So you’re the one who’s responsible for the rolling procession of olives through my mash?” Seton asked, raising a brow. 

“All of you need to stop giving Remus here a horrible first impression of me,” Black said, a bit sulky. Hadlee grabbed him around the elbow and pulled him along.

“Actually you did that yourself,” Remus cut in. “Blocking the floo while flirting with that inn keep this morning. Couldn’t get around you both, and I dare say I tried.” 

Black sputtered and the others laughed. “I was not flirting.”

“Of course,” Hadlee said soothingly, stroking his arm like a mother who had caught her naughty child in one too many a lie.

Black was quiet up the stairs to the office but resumed his usual exuberance once they were served drinks and took seats in a row of velvet backed settees, and chairs. Leaning against the textured wallpaper in a room that smelled like old books, Black held a glass of whisky and himself looked like a painting come to life. Remus wished he felt half as easy in any room, especially one in which he knew practically no one and was expected to remember names, faces and areas of study. His introverted nature was rising to the surface, oil on water as he attempted to mix and mingle, when all he wished for was to go back to his rooms, organize his belongings and perhaps curl up with a book. But he put on a mask and spoke pleasantly, or snarkily, depending on the situation and how much Black was wont to prod him. The man was relentless. 

After a couple rounds Remus was long past ready to retire when the door opened and a woman entered. Average height and build with short blonde hair, she smiled at those near the entrance before catching Remus’ eye. Starting from his chair, eyes wide in recognition, he held out a hand to take hers softly with a kiss. 

“Madame Darby, it’s wonderful to see you,” Remus said as the woman gave him a lovely smile, the slight lines around her eyes crinkling.

“And how do you know one another?” Black asked curiously.

“Ah, we were privately employed together up until about a year and a half ago. I was the house healer and Mr. Lupin here was the children’s tutor. He left on…” she started and stopped, “personal matters, and this summer I applied for the position here. I’m so glad to see you well and recovered,” Madame Darby said with a tilt of her head. 

Remus saw Black open his mouth and then close it with a frown. At least the man had the wherewithal not to ask into private matters surrounded by company. 

“I am very, well, as are you it seems. And how are the Wallace children? Last I heard they would be attending private school.”

“Ah yes, very well,” she said with a beaming smile.

“Really? That’s wonderful to hear, I haven’t heard back from them since right after I left their employment. Please let them know how I miss the children next time you write.”

“Of course,” she said fondly, “I’ll be sure to give them your regards Professor.”

They caught up for a bit before the woman made her way across the room to converse with another group of professors. Remus noticed that Divination Professor Silas Marlowe and his multicolored clothing were suspiciously absent. The man seemed a curious sort that Remus was interested in getting to know, purely out of intrigue.

By his side, Black yawned, covering his mouth with a long gloved hand. “I’m ready to retire. Care to walk with me?” the man asked and Remus wished for nothing more than to bolt up from his chair. Instead he rose slowly, smoothing his trousers and tugging his waistcoat back into place. 

“I am a bit drained, thank you,” he said, bidding good night to those around him before Black led the way down the steps from the tower. The air felt chilly for September, a fall breeze already permeating the air, the smell of dying leaves reaching into the very cracks in the castle foundation. 

“I’m not sure I’ll remember half their names come morning,” Remus said jokingly once they reached the bottom stairs and were well out of earshot.

“Not to worry, I can tell you’re a quick study,” Black replied, slowing his longer strides to walk alongside Remus.

“How are you feeling? I admit Madame Darby’s comments had me a bit worried.”

Remus sighed. He knew Black was going to bring the healer’s words up again, like a dog with a bone, the man was persistent. “Really, I’m fine.”

“But by the sound of things, you took an entire year off…” Black started before Remus cut him off.

“And now I’m right as rain. Can we leave it at that?” Remus asked, not willing to divulge his health to an almost complete stranger.

“Of course. Sorry to pry, it was out of concern and nothing more.” 

“I assure you, I can do my job as properly as the next professor,” Remus replied as he neared the teacher’s rooms. He wished Black would give up this mother hen act and leave him be.

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that,” Black let out a loud breath of frustration and touched a hand to Remus’ wrist before he could open his own door. The movement stayed him without seeming forceful and Remus felt the breath leave his very lungs for some odd reason. He wondered again at the man’s magic, he seemed to exude some sort of energy Remus had never encountered before. It both startled and intrigued him. 

“Really, I apologize. Let me make it up to you.”

“Ha, will you take me to breakfast?” Remus said, remembering the man’s earlier proposition of dinner. Black seemed to relax a bit and a small smile graced his perfect lips.

“I butter a mean piece of toast.”

Remus shook his head and only then opened his door. He stepped inside but turned over his shoulder, watching Black watching him. “Goodnight Black.”


	3. Chapter 3

The first day of classes was only half over and Remus was beyond exhausted. Lessons with the first years had been trying but they were nothing compared to the older children who were a noxious mixture of hormones and energy, which never seemed to properly brew. He’d given out two detentions, at least setting an example of a professor who would not be walked all over, and had to send one student to the nurse who would not stop crying for any discernible reason. 

The greenhouse was brightly lit, the end of summer sun making the air smell of warm earth and pungent blooms. Remus was busy yelling at a group of Gryffindors to stop trying to pet the fuzzy yet boil-inducing Harp Seal Weed when the door opened and in strutted Sirius Black. Remus frowned. Whatever could the man want during the first day of lectures?

“Excuse me students, and don’t you dare touch that or I take fifty points from Gryffindor,” Remus shouted over his shoulder as he made his way to the back of the class. There Black reclined, impeccable hessian boots propped up on the table in front of him, head back in his hands and eyes closed like he was settling in for an afternoon nap.

“Can I help you?” Remus asked, pushing at one of Black’s boots until the man took them off the table.

“Just here to take you up on your offer,” Black said, cracking one eye and an impish smile to fluster him.

“Offer?”

“To insure you don’t get yourself injured. Some of these plants look simply deadly,” Black replied, flicking a vine away that had crept toward his shoulder.

“Don’t you have a class to teach?” Remus asked, shaking his head.

“Free lesson this hour,” Black replied. 

“Fine,” Remus said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Just...stay out of the way. And don’t let that vine grab you.”

Black smiled and brushed off a wandering tendril once again. “Of course Professor.”

Remus rolled his eyes and returned to the front of the class.

Luckily class ended without a mishap and the students filed out, leaving Remus alone with Black who seemed in no rush to get back to his own room of eager students. The man stood, tall and lean in a bottle green vest over shirt sleeves and black trousers, a decadent specimen among the greenhouse’s variety of beautiful blooms. His long hair was again swept back in a ponytail, yet many a strand strayed from the tie as if longing for freedom after the rigidity of the day. 

“I have yet to die, hope you’re proud,” Remus said, striding up to the man. 

Black snickered and stood, grabbing his long coat but not yet putting it on. “You seem to be adapting well to life in a classroom.”

“Case in point, it’s actually a greenhouse,” Remus said, long fingers sweeping over a fern by his side. “I haven’t adapted one bit.”

“Perhaps all you need is sunlight and water.”

“Or just time,” Remus sighed, sinking onto the side of the table. “How can a day go by in a blur and yet take forever? Do we still have two more lessons, or am I hallucinating?”

As if to necessitate the point, a group of third years walked in and began to take their seats.

 

“You’ll do fine,” Black said, looking like he was about to pat Remus’ leg before thinking better of it. Instead that hand went up to card through his own hair, straightening the errant strands. 

“How are your lectures going?” Remus asked, eying as the other man crossed his arms, hiding his hands.

“About the same as most years. A poor first year ducked under his desk when I pulled out my wand, thought I was about to make an example of him or some such thing,” Black chuckled. “There’s a rowdy bunch of Ravenclaws in my second lesson, won’t stop transfiguring objects under the desks, not sure why. Had to take away their wands. Oh and one girl who seemed to forget how to breath at one point.”

“If you are inventing incidents simply to brag...” Remus said, shaking his head.

“Oh it wasn’t due to me. At least I think not.” Black seemed to ponder the matter. 

“Regardless I have a lecture to give and you must be off to your adoring admirers,” Remus insisted, rising and making for the front of the room. 

“Avoid the sneezewort,” Black called, shrugging on his coat before departing. Remus made it a point to not fall into a single plant the entire day if only to spite him.

* * *

Office hours afforded Remus a chance to breathe after the day’s end and before supper. He chose a vacatent classroom instead of the greenhouse, better for grading papers, planning lessons, and being readily available to students in the castle. It was also near to Black’s room, though that was obviously of no importance when he chose it. Or at least he liked to tell himself that. 

It was the end of the week and somehow he had survived to tell the tale. Teaching class after class all day was really nothing like tutoring a small family and Remus knew it would indeed take him some time to adapt to the schedule and strain of his new life. 

He looked up as his charmed quill finished grading a pile of tests before grabbing the lot, shaking it into an even stack of parchment, and placing it in his bag. Done for the day--night actually as the sun had already set--he decided to stop in next door and see if Black was likewise free.

Pushing open the heavy mahogany, Remus found the classroom otherwise vacant save for two. Magical Literature Professor Hadlee sprawled languidly on an overstuffed chair under the skeleton of what might be a dinosaur of some sort. A book was held neatly in her lap, one leg crossed over the other in tan buckskin trousers, a boot-clad foot swinging slightly as if to a melody only she could hear. Black sat nearby at his desk, one quill magicked to grade papers while he seemed to examine a scroll with a magnifying glass. Both glanced up at Remus’ arrival though he stopped in the doorway.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” he said, preparing to back out of the room, unsure what exactly he had interrupted. Both seemed so casual with one another that he wondered at their relationship. The two were indeed a refined sort, elegant and with accents that spoke of wealth and extracurricular tutoring, with posh wardrobes to match. And they were a match, a beautiful match. Remus both marveled at the pair and yet felt something akin to jealousy that he squashed down before it could whisper in his ear. 

“Not at all, I’m just finishing up,” Black said, standing with a smile. Remus noticed he was without a coat again, his shirtsleeves rolled up to reveal toned forearms that flexed when he braced himself on the desk. It was oddly mesmerizing. 

“Remus,” Hadlee greeted, “Do come in. We were going to head to Hogsmeade for drinks with some of the other professors, care to join?”

“Oh, I…”

“Please? Someone needs to keep Black in check and I think you’re just the man for the job,” she insisted.

“Well my previous position did entail me watching over a four and five year old, so I regret to say I am the most qualified.”

“Rude,” Black said, pointing his wand at a gem of some sort that sat along with an odd assortment of nick nacks on his desk. It flew toward Remus who caught it before it could do any damage.

“Shall we duel then? Wands at dawn?” Remus chuckled. 

“For my honor,” Black said, smiling despite his attempt to remain stern.

“Like Black would ever awaken at dawn,” Hadlee said dismissively, closing her book. “Come on then, I need a drink.”

At the entrance hall the three met up with a random assortment of professors also requiring escape from the confines of the castle to feel like adults if only for the evening. Bram Cromwell, the elderly professor of flying and riding was there along with Potions Master Ewen Seton and his partner Astronomy Professor Seiji Endo, and a jovial man named Deo Puram who was the expert professor on the Study of Ancient Runes. Together they traversed the cobblestone path down to Hogsmeade and the barkeep of the Hogshead greeted them like the regulars they likely were. Remus felt fortunate to be accepted into their little group so quickly. He wasn’t used to having friends, never mind an entire group of them willing to accept his company, reclusive as he often was. The group grabbed a large corner table and ordered beer and firewhisky, though Cromwell seemed content with his own glass of red wine. 

“So Lupin,” Puram asked as they settled in with their drinks, “How are you faring after your first week?” He had small dark scars in the shape of runes by the outer edge of his eyes and Remus wondered if they somehow helped his vision.

Remus swallowed a mouthful of beer before answering. “It’s quite a rewarding profession…”

“What he means is, he’s knackered,” Black said, patting Remus on the back. 

He glared back at Black but then deflated a bit at that knowing grin. “Well, yes. It does feel more like an entire semester than only a week,” he acquiesced. 

“It’s a thankless job most of the time,” Cromwell said, his kind eyes smiling upon Remus. “But it’s all worth while to see a student become a teacher.”

Remus was so moved by the words he could not give a proper answer. 

“Oh no, the wine has already gotten to Cromwell,” Puram lamented, laughing and patting the older man on the back. 

“But how ever do you survive the entire year?” Remus asked.

“Drinks, lots of them,” Hadlee confessed and the others laughed. “And companionship. Speaking of…” Remus watched as she left the table and made her way toward the door.

“Ah, her betrothed has arrived,” Endo said, raising his glass in the woman’s direction. 

“Betrothed?” Then Black wasn't her lover. A sigh he hadn’t planned on escaped Remus’ lips. Though, as he’d pictured Black at her side, he was more than a little surprised when Hadlee strode back over accompanied by a rather slight woman with short black hair and the most beautiful dark eyes framed by sharp cheekbones adorned with a small smattering of freckles. 

“Remus, meet Miss Gwenillan Hua, my fiance,” Hadlee said happily.

“Always wonderful to see new teachers at Hogwarts,” the woman said as Remus rose to kiss the back of her hand. 

“Wonderful to meet you,” he said before they all sat back in their seats, Miss Hua close beside Hadlee.

“You look shocked,” Black whispered in his ear, causing Remus to jump slightly. 

“Ah, it’s just,” Remus took a steadying breath and whispered back, “I had thought, and don’t laugh, that the two of you were...an item.”

Black bit his bottom lip and coughed. “Hadlee? And I?”

“I told you not to laugh,” Remus said.

“Sorry. It’s just that we’re more like siblings, so the thought of it.” He let out a small chuckle and Remus bumped his shoulder as rough as he dared. “Plus she greatly prefers women.”

“You’re just both so...stately. And refined. Together you look so beautiful.”

“Oh,” Black looked taken aback. “Well I’ll take the compliment and thank you for it. But we are neither the others ideal partner.”

“Noted,” Remus said, sitting back to listen in on the other’s conversation. He was content to merely observe and laugh along with the others until they brought up a bit of interest he was too intrigued to just let slide.

“If only Black still worked for the Ministry, maybe he could…” Endo started but Remus interrupted.

“Pardon, but Black, you worked for the Ministry before teaching?”

“Oh, he hasn’t told you? Well that’s a first,” Seton said, “The man was a certified Auror. Good too, if his own stories are anything to go by.”

“And we all know how he never exaggerates,” Hadlee cut in. 

“Ignore them,” Black said, turning to Remus. “But yes, I was an Auror. Five years, right out of school.”

“That’s a rather dangerous profession,” Remus stated, taken aback. He had rightly assessed that Black had seemed a man of adventure and daring when they had met, but an Auror. Or ex-Auror. He was incredibly glad the man no longer seemed to have a death wish.

Black shrugged it off. “I was young. And it was five years ago.”

Remus wondered at that. What could make a man with a flair for the heroics give up such a position? It seemed there were layers to Black he had yet to uncover.

For the remainder of the evening Remus got to know the other professors and even though there was room to his other side, he did not move when Black’s thigh pressed closely to his own.


	4. Chapter 4

Remus’ headache felt like it had taken on a life of its own. The pounding, which had begun upon waking, had persisted and only intensified into the afternoon until he could barely function during class. With no other option than to keel over on his desk, Remus excused himself while leaving a prefect in charge, and made for the hospital wing. 

“Are you alright?” Madame Darby asked, a silly question Remus thought, as he had not accidently stumbled into her ward like some drunkard. Still, he knew it was merely the headache talking and kept his thoughts to himself.

Massaging his temple, Remus sat on the side of a bed, closing his eyes against the harsh light that poured in from the large open windows. “I have a bit of a headache.” An understatement if there ever was one.

“Ah, well let me fix you right up. As I recall from our time in the Wallace household, you get them often. Shall I fetch you some tonic to keep for the future?”

“That would be most kind,” Remus said, also wishing she would just shut her mouth. Every sound was amplified, a cacophony in his aching head, and he just wanted everything and everyone to go away and leave him in silence and darkness. Come to think of it perhaps the dungeons weren’t such a bad idea to live. 

Before Remus could further contemplate a change of quarters, Madame Darby returned with four small vials, one uncorked and ready for consumption. Remus downed it without a second though and sighed as the potion immediately went into effect. Relief flowed, like cooling summer rivers through his veins and up to his temples, surrounding the back of his head and infolding him in a pillowy, pain free existence.

Apparently he had sank back into the hospital bed without realizing for when he looked up, the concerned face of the healer loomed above him.

“All better then?” she enquired, taking the vial from his clenched hands where he gripped it like a lifeline.

“You really are a witch, and I mean it as the highest compliment,” Remus said, letting his forearm fall over his eyes with a small sigh.

“Why thank you, though I can’t take all the credit, Mr. Seton brews them for me. There’s three more, though if you run out sooner than a month come see me again, we may need to check you out further,” she replied, the tinkle of glass vials on a metal tray were like music to his healed senses. 

“Of course,” Remus replied, finally sitting up, “How can I ever repay you?”

“I know you did not mean literally, but would you mind doing me a small favor? I meant to give this to Professor Marlowe over breakfast but plum forgot. Would you mind dropping it by his class after lessons? I would, but with all the students to attend…” Madame Darby spread her arms and Remus saw that indeed the beds were more full than usual with infirm students.

“Not a problem, happy to help,” Remus said, though in reality he quelled slightly at the thought of seeking out the strangest of the professors who had not warmed to him in the slightest. In fact, he was sure the man had not spoken a word to him since his arrival two weeks prior. Remus sighed. 

“Thank you dear,” the homely woman smiled pleasantly at him before running to fetch a small metal box decorated in runes. Remus did not ask what was inside though he was curious. 

“And might I ask how the Wallace children are?”

The woman looked at him curiously for a moment.

“You had said the next time you wrote that you would give them my regards,” Remus reminded her, wondering if the stress of the job had caused her to forget.

“Oh,” the woman shook her head before smiling over at him. “Of course, I’m sure they’ll be all too happy to hear that you inquired about them. Have a good day Mr. Lupin.”

Pocketing the three glass vials of headache cure and grabbing the box, Remus returned to class, setting it on his desk through the last two lectures, eyeing it at random, wondering what the eccentric man could possibly have requested from school healer. 

When finally the last bell had rung, Remus flicked his wand, summoning his papers and varions vials and writing implements until they were neatly tucked away in his satchel, grabbing the box in his free hand. Leaving the humid earthy air of the greenhous behind, he started up to the castle and made his way up to the Divinations Tower, high along a battlement. The encased stone stairways felt so much more frigid than his warm classroom and Remus shivered in spite of himself. His lungs tightened with the cold and he cast a warming charm on his cloak with a well practiced word. With his thighs burning after just one too many steps, his mind racing with magical means to easier transport a person from floor to floor, Remus reached a wooden door etched with stars and runes. 

After knocking once and hearing no answer from inside, Remus eased the door open, poking his head in. Scanning the cluttered space, not wishing to intrude if the professor was with a student, Remus studied the various implements, crystal balls, decks of cards, sticks, dreamcatchers, and other devices strewn across tables and hanging from the ceiling. He almost shut the door on his own neck when seemingly out of nowhere Marlowe popped into view, startling him breathless.

“What?” the tall man said, hunched over as his nose almost touched Remus own.

Taking a step back, Remus opened the door a slight bit more and attempted to find his words despite the hammering of his heart. 

“Sorry to intrude, I’m not sure we met, I’m…”

“Herb,” Marlowe said, nodding to himself and turning away from the door. 

Remus almost wondered if the man had forgotten about him until he turned back after a half a dozen paces.

“What do you want Herb?”

“It’s Remus actually,” he replied, but the man only waved a hand dismissively, continuing to walk to what must be his desk somewhere under a pile of clutter. 

“I’m not going to remember that,” the man said, searching through a pile of what looked like feathers.

“Fine then, Div,” Remus said, throwing all hope of befriending the man out the window. Strangely Marlowe chuckled, or at least the small sound Remus swore he heard was reminiscent of something akin to laughter.

“‘Div’...well then why are you here?”

“Oh, well Madame Darby sent me with this,” Remus held up the box. Still never meeting his eye, Marlowe glanced at it and frowned.

“Huh,” he said momentarily before clearing off a small space on the desk. “Here please.”

Feeling almost as if he’d rather take it back, Remus nevertheless put the box down, if only to leave that much sooner. 

“Say,” Marlowe said, grabbing a small velvet bag in one hand. “Ever had your runes read?”

It took Remus a moment to realize the man was speaking to him anything other than a dismissal. “Oh. No actually. I’ve read a crystal ball in school, tarot cards, tea leaves…”

“Here, sit.” Marlowe indicated an empty row of desks and chairs and placed the bag on the corner. “Pick three runes out. One at a time. And flip them so the tile is facing up.” Remus looked dubious and merely leaned against the table, eying the bag, wondering if this was some sort of odd trap or right of passage. “Come on, haven’t got all day.”

“Why not?” Remus sighed, putting his hand in, touching the cool slickness of ceramic. He grabbed a tile, turning it face up, before repeating the process twice more. When he was finally finished he looked up, watching as Marlowe studied the tiles, one hand worrying the end of a bright purple scarf. 

“Well, what do they say?” Remus asked, half annoyed and half curious. He was almost ready to just shove them back in the blasted bag when finally Marlowe spoke, sounding as if he himself was not entirely sure of the tile’s meanings. 

“This rune,” he indicated the first one Remus had drawn, “indicates trust, but this one,” he pointed to the next, “negates it. Literally ‘don’t trust. But this last rune is for life. ‘Don’t trust life.’” 

“What does that mean exactly?” Remus said, unable to hold back his skepticism. Divination was an art, to be sure, but that didn’t mean that all practitioners were adept at its many forms.

“Unclear,” Marlowe shrugged, one instant pondering and the next seemingly bored. “Come back another time.”

“Right, sure. Lovely chatting with you Div,” Remus said, turning and waving behind him as he left. What an odd encounter. Remus was sure he wouldn’t be popping back in anytime soon.

* * *

The following Saturday was the first weekend of the term where students were allowed the day in Hogsmeade. Seeing as it would be pure mayhem to allow them free range throughout the village, professors were randomly assigned as chaperones, and Remus found himself in the unenviable position of spending his Saturday insuring their safety. Luckily Black was chosen as well, so the two decided to make a day of it, as much as possible. 

“How many points do you think we’ll be taking today?” Black asked after reprimanding three Ravenclaws stacked atop of one another in a cloak trying to sneak into the pub. 

“At least fifty,” Remus said, watching as two girls who looked up to no good snuck into an alley behind the building. 

“I wonder if there’s any students down here,” Black yelled loudly, voice echoing along old stone, then watching as the girls ran out the other side. Crisis averted, they moved on. “I hope, being the new professor, they haven’t given you too much grief.”

Remus shrugged. “It’s manageable. Children test their boundaries, it’s only natural for them to see what they can get away with.”

“And just how much did you test your boundaries, Professor Lupin? I have a feeling there’s always been more to you than a mature facade.”

Remus chuckled. “I’m sure whatever I tell you will be held against me, so excuse me for not divulging any particulars about my childhood.”

“I wonder how far back headmasters keep their detention records,” Black mused. 

“As if I’d get caught,” Remus snorted.

Just then they came upon Professor Cromwell with his arm guiding along a rather pale looking Slytherin. 

“Cromwell, everything alright?” Black asked, crouching down to eye the boy who looked ready to collapse with a slight breeze.

“Timothy here can’t seem to stop throwing up. I think his friends snuck a puking pastille into his sweets,” Cromwell sighed in defeat. 

“Need any help?” Remus asked, ready to step in but not exactly jumping at the chance to help a student who could possibly vomit at any given moment.

“Thank you, but I’ll just take him to the nurse and be back in a tick. Keep the little hooligans safe for me,” Cromwell said, starting up the cobblestone roadway to the castle. 

“Poor kid,” Remus said, shaking his head as he and Black returned to pacing the village. The air was getting crisp, summer having faded to fall, and he wrapped his scarf more tightly around his neck, breathing warmth into the thick wool and holding back a cough. 

“So how does this compare with your Auror days?” Remus asked. The other man was oddly tight lipped about his previous occupations, speaking in vague terms instead of specifics. It only made Remus more curious about Black’s past.

Black frowned as a boy jumped on the back of another but then seemed to relax when he saw both were laughing. “Well this bit is oddly familiar. Constantly watching, troubleshooting, insuring no one ends up in the hospital. Now the classroom, that’s unforeseeable chaos at its finest. I can never predict what messes they’ll get into with a flick of their wands.”

“Very true, makes me glad toddlers aren’t allowed wands,” Remus laughed. “Twelve year olds are unpredictable enough.” He coughed into his scarf as a cold breeze swept by, though Black seemed unaffected. “So is there a particular reason you don’t wish to speak of your Auror days or…” 

Black bit his lip, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I think a man of mystery becomes me.”

“You think everything becomes you,” Remus sighed.

“Alright. Come for a ride with me tomorrow. I swear to reveal my many secrets.”

Remus shook his head. Since arriving at Hogwarts, Black had been attempting to seduce him into a ride, which of course sounded lovely in theory, but Remus long ago found that he and horses simply did not get along. Though perhaps with both age and wisdom he’d make a much improved horseman.

“You swear?”

“I do,” Black promised, looking to be holding back his glee at finally snagging Remus into this equestrian trap.

“You’re a hard man to refuse Black,” Remus sighed.

“Oh, I know it.”


	5. Chapter 5

Unfortunately the following day dawned bright and clear. Remus was not so subtly hoping for rain, a sudden tornado, or maybe a tsunami to hit the Scottish highlands. Instead he received unseasonable warmth perfect for riding. Along with another headache. After downing a vial of Madame Darby’s headache cure and stuffing the last vial in his jacket pocket, Remus made for the stables in search of Black and what he was sure would be a disaster of a day. He really hated horses.

Black, resplendent in a fitted wool riding jacket, dark brown with black cuffs and a cream vest covered in subtle vine embroidery, seemed overly chipper as Remus entered the stable. Seeing as it was a Sunday only the most dedicated students were there, along with Professor Cromwell tending to the school’s horses. 

“Good day for a ride,” Cromwell stated and Remus gave a noncommittal grunt in return. Cromwell laughed.

“He loves horses, really,” Black insisted, walking over to Remus with hope in his eyes. 

“Yes, fantastical beasts,” Remus said, feeling warmth on his lower back as Black guided him under the eves of the stable where he had two horses ready and tied to a post. “So which four-legged broom is mine?”

“Not so loud or Cromwell won’t let us ride,” Black shushed him with a wide look in his eyes.

“Pity.”

“You’ll love it, I promise,” Black replied. “Look, I even found a horse that looks like you.”

Remus should be insulted but the beast really did bear a striking resemblance, both in mane color as well as the sleepy bored look in his large brown eyes. “Well she doesn’t look like a race horse at least,” Remus sighed.

“Not in the slightest, now come on,” Black insisted, holding out a gloved hand. Deciding to buck up before he changed his mind, Remus set his hand in Black’ own, grabbing the saddle horn with his other and placing one foot in the stirrup. Black gave him an extra bit of momentum before he swung his other leg over and into the other stirrup, firmly planted on the horse’s back. Resting there, he felt both proud and anxious for the riding portion of this day to be over. 

Before he had time to become too proud though, Black had sprung onto his own horse like he was born to a saddle. With what little Remus knew of his background, it was entirely possible he was. 

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Remus said before digging his heels slightly into his mount and guiding her to trot alongside Black. Luckily his mare seemed sure footed and the longer he was in the saddle, the more relaxed Remus became. 

The sun, still low in the sky, gave off the barest hint of warmth that seeped in through Remus’ jacket and touched his golden hair, ruffled in the slight breeze. As they neared the forest’s edge, grass and brush gave way to fallen autumnal leaves, damp from the rain days past, the smell of rot and the loam of earth a sure sign of the change of seasons. Remus always found the forest magical in autumn; as a child he’d often found himself drawn here, getting lost both within the dense trees as well as the pages of a book until hunger or lack of light brought him back to the castle. Something deep, something primal urged him into the woods, full of the promise of escape, however temporary. 

Black waved to a group of centaurs before turning over to Remus. “The forest is getting dense, think we should walk the horses?”

Not wishing to be bucked when his mare tripped on a fallen branch, Remus readily agreed and they dismounted, walking side by side as their horses trailed behind. 

“So, how are you?” Black asked and Remus shook his head and laughed at the forced banal conversation.

“I just saw you at dinner last night Black, nothing has changed except my clothes and being in the middle of the forest.”

“You never know,” Black shrugged.

“I heard Timothy is still ill. His parents were coming to pick him up today,” Remus said, thinking back on the previous day’s Hogsmeade visit.

“That is odd,” Black insisted. “There were four students out from one of my Friday classes. Though, to be fair, it is the same four who called off the previous week with Quidditch ‘injuries.’”

“Could just be something going around, I’ve had this blasted cough the past few days,” Remus said, clearing his throat to ward off a tickle. “Though I wouldn’t underestimate a student trying to get out of classes.”

Leaves shifted underfoot, paper thin, their muffled crunch an ode to the passage of time and feet. An owl hooted from a nearby tree followed by the flap of wings as a soft breeze kissed Remus’ face. Black looked over at Remus and smiled, his chest felt tight.

“Or a teacher attempting to escape,” Black added.

“Weren’t you going to let me in on your Auror secrets while we’re out and about?” Remus asked, the stillness of the forest begging for words to fill its depths. 

“I did mention that, didn’t I?” Black said thoughtfully, plucking a golden leaf from an almost bare branch.

“The others said you used to brag about your Auror days. Did something change? Are you having regrets?” Remus asked.

Black shrugged. “You just didn’t seem the type to be impressed by my dashing head first into danger.”

“Is that what you did?”

“Some of the time,” Black admitted. “I was young. Impulsive, stupid really.”

“No,” Remus said, feigning shock. Black did seem the type, adventurous and headstrong, someone who would put his life on the line for anyone around him. It was a strength and loyalty Remus envied.

“It always seems like everything will work out...until it doesn’t. I was an Auror for five years, it was my family. My partner James was my best friend. Then we found out one of the other Aurors from another unit was taking bribes, lining his pockets and contributing to the continuation of a known crime organization. So we confronted him, thinking if it was just us, his family, it would be okay. Well that backfired.”

Remus stopped walking, the forest was quiet in suspenseful patience for Black to continue. His own heart constricted, feeling the pain he saw reflected in Black’s eyes as he stared everywhere but at Remus. 

“We trusted him. I trusted him. But I guess it was really only ever one-sided. He felt cornered, a rat caught in a trap. Neither of us wanted to hurt him, which he used to his advantage, firing spell after spell at us before we even thought to counter with the same accuracy and force. Before I knew what happened I was hit. My partner, James, he turned his back, worried for me, and in that instant his spine was snapped. He’s never walked again. Has a wife and a young kid. I was luckier but, neither of us escaped unscathed.”

“I’m so sorry,” Remus gasped, “What...what happened to you?”

Giving Remus a sad smile, Black removed his coat then unbuttoned his vest and shirt, never looking Remus in the eye. Only when Black shrugged his right arm from the shirt sleeve did Remus see the reminder Black was left with of that fateful encounter.

There on his right shoulder, just below the bone, was an absolutely perfect ring of scar tissue wrapped around the entire arm. 

“Took my arm clean off,” Black said with an almost hysterical laugh at the end. Remus swallowed. It wasn’t a bad scar, the edges were clean and it had healed nicely, but Remus knew that wasn’t the real issue anyway. Scars went so much deeper than skin. It was the mind that needed true healing.

“What are those?” Remus asked, indicating small vertical rows of runes that ran from shoulder to elbow on the outer edge of Black’s arm. The looked almost like poetry, verse after verse of what looked like healing runes etched from light to dark blue hues under his skin. 

“Well, even when they reattach the arm, I couldn’t feel anything. Nerve damage, they said. Took me months to find a Rune Master skilled enough to heal an entire arm.”

“They’re quite beautiful,” Remus said, not realizing he’d run a finger along the lines, admiring the calligraphy and precision, the almost otherworldly quality they lended Black’ absolutely perfect arm.

“Er, thanks,” Black said, turning away to quickly rebutton his clothes. Remus saw a hint of red upon Black’s cheek and found it more than slightly adorable that the man could be so embarrassed over such a simple compliment.

“Runes made you whole,” Remus realized, smiling softly.

“They healed me, not sure I’ll ever really feel whole,” Black mused.

“My, you’re melodramatic,” Remus said, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Distract me from my dark musings then. So why did you leave your previous position?”

Somehow Remus knew it would come to this. Not that his story was anything like Black’s own, in fact while Black showed his bravery, Remus only felt weakness. Still, he felt he owed Black the same trust the man had shown him.

“Right. Well, it’s not all that interesting I’m afraid. I just...got sick,” Remus said, shrugging and continuing to walk the forest path. Black didn’t press him, a fact for which he was grateful, so he took his time, rolled the words around in his mouth before speaking them aloud. “Tuberculosis. I know, it shocked me too. I guess being half muggle, I’m strongly susceptible to muggle diseases. So I left for a warmer climate before I could infect the family, the children especially, they were part muggle too. Took a year to fully recover. It’s not contagious any more, though I guess being pure blood you’d have nothing to fear.”

“I...I didn’t think that was possible to catch. As a wizard,” Black said frowning, brow furrowed in thought. 

“Well it is. Initially I thought it was just a really resilient cold that wouldn’t go away even with all of our tonics and tinctures. Then I started coughing up blood. Luckily once I got away to a warm environment it helped immensely. Found a witch there who did wonders healing my lungs.”

“I do recall you having a bit more of a tan when we first met,” Black said, looking Remus over as if assessing him for damage. “But you’re really alright now?”

“I said I’m not contagious…” Remus began, affronted that Black would think he’d endanger others, especially students with the affliction.

“That’s not what I meant.” Black put a hand on his forearm. 

“Oh,” Remus swallowed, feeling the warmth of his touch even through layers of fabric. Something human in the primal forest that made him feel less like a wanderer lost. “Yes. Very well.”

“Good,” Black said, looking into his eyes for a long moment in which Remus was sure he’d never seen the colour grey look quite so warm. Like a wool coat on a winter’s day, rocks left in the summer sun, the fur of an old dog long loved by a family. 

But then Remus cleared his throat and the spell was broken. Black looked forward into the trees, continuing to walk as if nothing had occurred. Perhaps nothing had. But then why was Remus’ heart pounding in his chest?

They spent the remainder of the afternoon together, walking or riding through the trees and fields, eating a lunch Black had packed and talking constantly. When it finally came time to part ways at the stable Remus was feeling a bit at a loss but he knew he needed to get some grading done. As well as stop by the hospital wing for more headache potions and something for his cough. When he finally slept that night it was to the thought of warm grey eyes that looked to him as if he could be their whole world.

* * *

The next day Remus awoke a bit later than usual and had to forgo breakfast for a roll and butter nicked from the kitchens. He said a quick hello to Professor Holly, the elf who taught Wandless Magic who everyone was sure was dating Hogwarts’ head chef, before sprinting out of the castle and down to the greenhouses. 

The air had a bite to it, crisp and chill, causing Remus to bury his nose in his scarf and stick his hands further into his coat pockets. The walk always did feel longer on colder days and Remus was not looking forward to it come winter. At least the greenhouse would be warmer as the sunlight filtered through the charmed glass, an added benefit that greatly soothed his newly healed lungs.

Remus knew the string of students outside the classroom did not bode well, he could feel their anxiousness in the air as he stepped close, wondering why they weren’t entering the open door.

“Um professor…” a Slytherin girl warned, biting her lip and pointing inside. 

Remus took a steadying breath, downed a headache potion, and stepped inside, wand drawn. Though a lot less menacing than the danger he’d pictured, the fact that every single plant and table was somehow hanging upside down from the greenhouse ceiling was definitely unexpected. He’d admit to being slightly impressed, but decided against advertising that fact least it cause more unnecessary hijinks. 

“Well, I guess we’ll be sitting on the floor then,” Remus said, not wishing to take the time to set things to order in lue of teaching. He went through the lesson as normal, the students often giving him strange looks as he’d point to a plant hanging from some far corner in the rafters like it was normally there and not currently defying gravity. Relieved faces at not facing detention seemed to make themselves known by the end, but Remus was no easy target. 

“Now then,” he said just before class was to let out, “As you no doubt have noticed, things look a bit unusual in here today. And while I advocate growth and change in all things, I will not have distractions such as this disturbing my lessons again. You all have until the end of today to reveal yourself as the culprit, as I shall tell to each of my classes. If, by the time I get to class tomorrow, no one has fessed up, I shall confiscate all your wands and go through their histories. I’ll see everything you’ve been up to.” Well not everything, but the students didn’t need to know that. “I also will not condone blaming this upon another student. Come to me bravely or not at all. Oh and read Chapter Fifteen on how to properly chop Pongous Onions and how to tell them from a regular onion. Class dismissed.”

By the end of the day Remus’ knees were aching from standing and not a single student had yet to come forward. Also he needed a large amount of help to unstick and remove everything safely from the damn ceiling. Magically he found himself opening the door to Black’ classroom and finding the man with his feet up on the desk chatting with Professor Puram of Ancient Runes. 

“Ah Remus, you look a bit...turned around,” Black said, a twinkle in his eye.

“How long has he been waiting to say that?” Remus asked, knowing fully well that word of his classroom’s current state had made the rounds between students and teachers.

“I only just got here, but I’d say he’s gone through at least three versions of it,” Puram said, shaking his head.

“Five actually, I liked the phrase ‘floored’ but couldn’t quite make it work for ‘ceiling.’”

“Well do you think your brain could handle thinking up horrid puns as well as help me right my classroom?” Remus asked, not really mad at the other man but it was fun to pretend. 

“I can grab more professors if you need a hand?” Puram offered, giving Remus a sympathetic brow furrow. 

“That would be wonderful, thanks,” Remus said as the other man nodded and left the room. 

Black got to his feet then, all liquid grace poured into tall shined black boots. His jacket today was dark brown with purple pinstripes perfectly fitted over a black shirt and vest. He looked impeccable as always and Remus attempted not to stare as he pulled his hair up into a loose tail at the back of his neck.

“Lead on.” They walked down the stone hallways, plastered with parchment posters advertising the All Hallows Eve Ball, as if every single person in the castle didn’t know the annual event would be occurring soon. A staircase almost took them to another floor before Black flicked his wand, righting it as they continued onward.

“I swear, if we ever get invaded, just get them on the stairs, they’ll get no further,” Remus said, jumping over a trick step which had no purpose he could yet discern.

“Agreed,” Black said, “this school often makes no sense, but that’s part of the fun of it.”

“Maybe for students, I just want to get to class on time.”

“And without your things on the ceiling.”

“Yes, that too,” Remus added, covering a cough. He’d need to stop by and get another potion for it later, the one he’d picked up yesterday was not doing the trick.

The moment Black stepped into Remus’ greenhouse, the man let out a howl of laughter and practically collapsed on the floor.

“Oh, this is brilliant. I’d heard, but to see it…”

“Yes, I’m sure they’re prodgies of their time.”

“Come on, you must appreciate…”

“I do, but must we say it so loud? I can’t condone this and you know it,” Remus said with a shake of his head.

“Alright then,” Black said, looking up at Remus’ desk far above. Flicking his wand at his feet, he hovered up, neck craning to look at table and chair legs, seeing exactly how they’d been placed. “Not permanent sticking charms,” he said after a minute.

“Thank Merlin for that,” Remus sighed.

“I think it’s just anti-gravity charms along with a rune on each piece inscribed in chalk for them to twist upside down. Pretty cleaver.”

“Our brightest minds.”

Black shook his head before flipping upside down. His hair was about the only thing out of place as he smiled over at Remus before gliding lower until they were eye to eye. Remus bit his lower lip, transfixed on the spot though he knew the man hadn’t cast a single spell his way.

“You need to relax,” Black said, sultry, low, and Remus could feel the warmth of his breath on his cheek. “Come to the ball with me.”

“What?” Remus had not been expecting that. Black quirked an eyebrow but the effect was strange from upside down and Remus let out a puff of breath through his nostrils that was one part amusement and the other part incredulous. 

Black floated somehow closer. One gloved hand came up, or down actually, delicately lifting Remus’ chin with a long elegant forefinger. 

“Professor Lupin, will you do me the honor of accompanying me to the All Hallow’s Eve Ball?”

Remus swallowed, his mouth suddenly too dry to form words correctly around a heavy tongue. 

“Don’t leave me hanging.”

Bursting out laughing, Remus almost hit is head against Blacks’ own but the other man was quick, floating to the side with ease and a smile that quirked in the same direction.

“Yes, of course,” Remus said finally straightening, feeling his eyes watering slightly. This man was too smooth by half, yet it didn’t seem to bother Remus as it normal would. Black floated back over.

“Good.”

“Er,” a throat clearing from the doorway made them both start. Professor Puram waved, along with at least three other professors who seemed to be quite keenly watching the show. Seton looked just a bit put out that Puram had interrupted and was giving the man a sideways glance. 

“Oh, thank you all,” Remus said, straightening his vest for no apparent reason. “Er, for coming to help. Black...where did he go,” Remus craned his neck to find Black simply walking around on the ceiling upside down. “Well Black thinks it an anti-gravity charm and upside-down runes scrawled in chalk, so any help would be much appreciated.”

Puram gave him a wink, whether it was his eagerness to work with his specialty of runes or some sort of vague support, Remus wasn’t quite sure, but he let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Following him into the room were Professors Hadlee, Seton, Geneva --who took up a rather large space in the room as she flicked her tail around-- and the smaller Professor Holly. 

“I’ll see to the runes,” Puram stated, floating up to join Black who was now walking sideways along a wall while humming to himself. “Once I’ve safely removed them I’ll have the rest of you levitate them down.”

“Show me how and I’ll help,” Black suggested and the two got to work as the others aimed their wands at the furniture and plants, all except Professor Holly who, being an elf, of course needed no wand. They started with smaller objects, potted plants, tools, books, and worked up to chairs and tables. Some of the more dangerous or large plants needed a bit of extra care so Remus floated up to join the other two, so no one was stung, bit, grabbed, or unwillingly caressed by the flora and fauna. 

When they had finally finished, everyone was covered in potting soil and dust but the classroom looked right once again. “Drinks are on me next Hogsmeade visit,” Remus said by way of thanks as Holly cast a spell to clean them all off. 

“Can’t say no to that,” Puram said and the others agree as they headed off back to the castle together. 

“By the way, did anyone ever confess to the incident?” Hadlee asked, coming up alongside Remus. 

Shaking his head, Remus wrapped his scarf tight around his neck. “Not yet, I gave them until tomorrow though, so I guess we shall see.”

“I bet no one will come forward. Had a similar incident in my class first year, some little hooligans decided to sneak in at night and switch the potions ingredients. Luckily no one was hurt, but one student who tried what they thought was a hiccup cure ended up instead with a very stately unibrow,” Seton added. 

“I guess it could have been much worse,” Remus said with a smile. “Say, could I have a word if you have a moment?” Seton agreed and while the others continued onto their rooms, Remus took the Potions professor aside into an open classroom. He’d been wondering who he could speak to in regards to Black and the multitude of feelings the man induced, and while he was much closer to Hadlee, Seton seemed a much better wealth of knowledge in this regard.

“What can I help you with?” Seton asked, lending against a desk as Remus sat on the opposite. 

“Well, it’s about you and Endo,” Remus started, wishing he’d thought of this earlier to rehearse his words. “How do you, well, go about it?”

Seton gave Remus the most comical look of incredulity he had ever seen. Looking to the ceiling as if for guidance, Seton pushed his shoulders back before rising to stand.

“Right. This is why I never wanted children but here I am regardless. Lupin, when two men love one another…”

“Wait!” Now it was Remus’ turn to look absurd. He threw his hands up hoping to stop the man before they both had a conversation neither wished to have. “I don’t mean like that. Not that I have first hand knowledge, but I meant, really, as professors. Who work together. Not...the physics of it all.”

“Oh. Well that’s a relief,” Seton said, shaking his head and finally smiling, his fears alleviated. “May I ask if a certain someone asking you to the ball might have prompted this inquiry?”

“Damn. So you all heard then?” Remus groaned into his hands. 

“There, there,” Seton said, patting him on the shoulder. “At least you said yes. Otherwise it would be quite a different scandal.”

“I guess that’s one less thing to worry about,” Remus sighed. “So I guess keeping things quiet until I figure out exactly what this is, is no longer an option?”

“How much are you still attempting to figure out?”

“Probably more than Black. I’ve dated women before but…” Remus coughed, clearing his throat then shrugged. “...not men. Or anyone I’ve worked with.”

“Well, being a professor, it’s not quite as close quarters as if, let’s say, you were sharing an accounting office together. You both understand one another’s busy schedules, you can commiserate over immature students, Hogsmeade duties, the fact that teacher beds are quite small until you magically enlarge them.” He raised an eyebrow and Remus blushed. “You’ve been friends for a bit, which I highly recommend to be a solid foundation to build a relationship upon. Just take things at your own pace, be open and communicative with Black. He may be a bit of an arse at times, but he’s also quite understanding.” 

“You’re very right. I’m probably just overthinking things.”

“We all do, especially in the beginning. Just be yourself, he’s really quite taken with you.”

Remus smiled down at his hands. It was all a bit overwhelming, he wasn’t quite sure what he’d done to receive the affections of someone like Sirius Black, but he would do his damndest not to rune things.

“Also, if you’d like to borrow something of mine for the ball, we are of a size,” Seton said with a grin and a raise of his eyebrow. How could Remus refuse?


	6. Chapter 6

Somehow, despite, nerves, self doubt, and everything Remus could think of that could possibly go wrong, he made it through to the night of the All Hallow’s Eve Ball and Black still wished to accompany him. Nothing and yet everything had changed between them. Black still sat in on his classes on the pretence of protecting Remus from an ill fated curse, and Remus still went out to drink with Sirius and the other professors. Admittedly, he spent more time grading papers in the man’s classroom than his own, and if they sat just a bit closer during meals, who was to notice?

Honestly Remus was not entirely sure how exactly to classify their relationship. When he thought about it, all Black had actually done was ask him to the ball, it wasn’t as if they were seeing one another, exclusively or otherwise. Yet every time they were in a room together Remus could feel the other man’s eyes upon him, quicksilver that arrested his breath and stuttered his heart into overdrive. A kiss was long overdue, but Remus planned to amend that tonight. 

The reflection in the mirror told him Sirius would have quite the time saying no. Though not usually proud of his own looks, Remus had to admit he cleaned up quite nicely. The clothing Seton has lent him fit to perfection. A russet orange vest trimmed in gold rested over a cream shirt and matching trousers, pressed and hugging his thighs impeccably. The drama of the outfit rested entirely upon his cloak - dark ash, falling to his knee high boots, the collar crisp and folded down, a length of gold chain hanging between his collar bones. Remus was undoubtedly sure he’d never worn clothing this nice in his entire life.

Though he was also undoubtedly sure Sirius would eclipse him, and he could not wait to be overshadowed. 

Arriving early, Remus assisted the staff in any remaining set up before they slowly began to allow students to trickle in through the massive double doors. Black was late but Remus was not surprised, the man seemed the type to need to make an entrance. Soft music, garlands of dried and twisted vines, and candles floated through the air, pumpkins painted gold and black adorned the tables overflowing with fall charcuterie. Students were dressed in their finest - dress robes pressed, shoes shined, masquerade masks obscuring part or the whole of their round excited faces. 

Remus was just assisting Profesor Hadlee to clean a spilled bowl of cider when he felt all eyes turn behind him. Of course it was Black. Perfect, regal, dressed completely in a garment so dark every inch of his clothing seemed to draw the light to him and take it for his own. Remus was sure he was staring but he wasn’t the only one. A silk cravat was expertly tied over a black dress shirt, tucked into an embroidered dark vest sitting atop tight ebony trousers, all covered in a hoodless cloak that hung from his shoulders and down to the ground, accentuating the long limbs. His hair turned up at his shoulders, cascading down in a dark waterfall, and Remus realized just how badly he needed to run his fingers over the beautiful waves that caught the candlelight like a gift meant just for him. Black smiled from beneath the mask that covered half of his face, black lace that curved around his eyes, drew patterns over his cheekbone and nose and accentuated his full lips. Remus was enchanted. 

“May I have this dance Professor Lupin?” Black asked, voice low, throaty, seductive in a way Remus was sure was quite indecent for public. He could not be found to give a damn. He placed one hand in Sirius’ black gloved one and was lead in a trance to the dance floor.

“You look exquisite,” Black said, resting one hand on Remus’ waist before leaning to whisper in his ear.

“You look like a dream,” Remus breathed back and felt Black chuckle against his cheek. He hadn’t meant to speak such words aloud but he also couldn’t take them back, and instead ducked his head, turning to focus on something, anything other than the beautiful man who now twirled him around the marble floor. Children danced around, laughing, living, eyes shining behind masks, some probably even drunk on alcohol the professors were unable to confiscate. 

But Remus was drunk on something else. Black, warm and a hair’s breadth from his own body, ethereal as the night sky, smile all for him. The hand on his back touched him softly, soothing fingers stroking cloth over skin, romantic and heady like Remus was floating high above the ball with Black and he alone. 

He could not tell for how long they danced, he felt in a dream, for once shirking his duties and not caring for propriety. Black could lead him to dance atop the astronomy tower for all he cared. The sharp edge of a nose grazed along Remus’ jawbone, nuzzling, warm breath below on his neck sending tingles up Remus spine, causing his lungs to tighten, his heart to hammer in anticipation. He felt Black steer them away from the crowd, from the noise and prying eyes until they danced just for themselves in a quiet corner.

Lips found the juncture of jaw and neck and Remus closed his eyes, tilting into the kiss like an offering and he heard Black sigh against his skin. The still danced, slowly as lips moved higher, Remus’ breath catching with every tease, every promise of closing the distance between his own lips, knowing Black was fully aware of exactly what he was doing to Remus. When it was finally too much Remus drew his hands from Black’s back, threading fingers into long hair, pulling him down to his mouth and taking what he wanted. 

He felt Black chuckle against his lips before a black gloved hand reached for his neck, drawing him so close Remus could barely breathe. It was all so surreal. His chest felt tight, his lungs ached for air, and yet he never wished to stop. But he had to pull away, a cough reverberating low in his throat as he turned his head, wishing to apologize yet not yet able to draw breath to do so. The cough seized him, reverberating, painful, and he doubled over, feeling Black’s soothing hand on his back as he gasped into his hand, over and over, feeling like it would never cease.

“Lupin? Lupin are you alright...Remus?” 

He heard over his cough, wishing to respond, to reassure Sirius, yet he was powerless to do so. He knew this cough, this unwelcome visitor, and when he finally drew breath minutes later he opened his hand and knew exactly what he’d find. Sirius gasped as Remus leaned, back against the wall, both looking down at a white glove covered in blood. 

* * *

“No.”

Black’s word echoed in his head as he swallowed back the metallic taste in his mouth. Long fingers reached for his cheek but Remus turned his head aside. 

“Remus, no. Look at me. How can this be?” Black stood before him, mask torn off his worried face, begging for reassurance Remus simply could not give. 

“I don’t…” Remus shook his head in shock. He’d been cured. His lungs healed. It couldn’t be tuberculosis again, it just wasn’t possible. Leaning his head back against the cool stone wall, Remus closed his eyes, willing the familiar tightening of his chest to cease, the blood on his hand to disappear, to leave him and Black alone and as carefree as he’d been only a minute before. But it was not to be. Another fit wracked his body and Remus doubled over.

“I...hospital,” Remus breathed out around the blood coating his tongue. When he finally looked up to Sirius the man was so pale he seemed a ghost. 

“Remus, something...something is wrong,” Black said, brow furrowed in thought.

“Obviously,” Remus said, spitting blood onto the ground. Black gasped, staring at the red mark on the stone like it was some unholy thing.

“No. I mean...Remus, wizards can’t get tuberculosis. Especially twice.”

“They can. And I have, now if you won’t help me....” Remus pushed off the wall and took an unsteady step forward. Black was there, arm around his waist, but halting their movement.

“I need help.”

“I know, but something else is going on here. Look, I have an idea. If this doesn’t work, I promise we take you straight to Madame Darby. Trust me. Please?” Black looked at him, eyes shining gold in the candlelight, and Remus needed someone to trust. He didn’t want to do this all alone again. Defeated and in pain, Remus nodded and Black eased his arm further under to support him.

A secret door behind a tapestry became their salvation, allowing Remus to save face as Black snuck him out of the ballroom and into a nearby vacant classroom. With a wave of his wand, Black transfigured a chair into a settee which Remus was quite sure possessed a gravitational pull of a small planet when he fell bonelessly onto the soft cushions. 

“Wait here, I’ll be back shortly,” Black said, bending to kiss him softly on the forehead, lips cool against his heated skin, and Remus blinked to find him gone. Settling back, Remus concentrated on the rise and fall of his chest, attempting to seize control, to ease the tightness and regulate his breathing. 

“What’s wrong with him?” came soft words, floating to his ears as Remus eased his eyes open and sat up marginally. A handsome yet concerned looking pair, Professors Seton and Endo, knelt beside his reposed self, and Remus had just enough energy to give Black a look of frustration. Bad enough he’d seen Remus in such a state, but now two others as well. 

“Sorry, I didn’t have time to fill them in yet,” Black said, sitting down beside Remus and stroking his hair back from his forehead. Turning, he addressed the other two men, still done up in their finest suits and cloaks, looking nothing like bedside nurses in the slightest, yet for some reason Black thought they would be of help. “R...Lupin believes he has tuberculosis. Well, that he had tuberculosis, a year back. Then tonight he began to cough up blood again. Though I find this to be an impossibility, he seems to think that if you possess muggle blood you can get the disease. Twice seemingly.”

Seton frowned and craned his neck to look Remus over in the most clinical of fashions. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Nor I,” Endo chimed in, worrying his bottom lip on one sharp canine. “May I ask how you were diagnosed?”

“I was a private tutor,” Remus said, coughing slightly before continuing, “Actually Madame Darby was the family nurse, she confirmed my suspicions. I left for warmer climates to heal for a year as well as to not expose the children who also had muggle blood like myself.”

Both men turned to one another and frowned. Endo straightened and turned to Black, a suspicion growing in his eyes. “And you brought us here to…”

“I’m sorry if it’s rude to ask. It’s just, I recall you saying you could taste disease in blood. I wondered if perhaps you could confirm one way or another.”

Endo looked nervous. “I suppose I could…”

Seton, though, held up a hand to stop his lover. “Black. If you don’t believe it to be tuberculosis, what are your suspicions?”

Looking away from Seton, Remus could see real fear in Black’s eyes. He swallowed then took Remus’ hand in his own, looking only to him even when answering the other man’s question.

“Poison.”

“What?” Remus coughed around the word and took a half minute to stop before he could draw breath again. “Why?”

“I just...have a suspicion.”

“Care to share it or shall I just sit back and watch as my lover drinks possibly poisoned blood?” Seton said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Endo took a step closer and touched the man’s shoulder. “Calm yourself. He doesn’t mean ill by it.”

“Would it...harm you?” Black asked.

“What do you think?” Seton asked, a bit irate.

“Then of course we wouldn’t ask that of you,” Black said, squeezing Remus’ hand. “There’s other ways.”

“Of course, I could simply smell his blood,” Endo shrugged. Seton still did not look happy but apparently had no argument against it. 

“Only if it won’t do you any harm,” Remus insisted. He had no idea how any of this worked, but if he somehow transferred either disease-- or poison-- to the other man, he would never be able to live with himself. 

Nodding, Endo gave both Remus and Seton a reassuring look. “I’m sorry but I’ll need you to spill your blood, preferably into a cup or bowl of some sort.”

Using his wand, Black transfigured a quill and book into a knife and bowl and handed them to Remus with a hesitant expression upon his face. Remus gave him what he hoped was a reassuring look back and held the knife as steady as his fingers would allow. Pulling off his left glove with his teeth, he set the blade to the thickest part of his palm and sliced. The cut, though shallow, bleed more than he’d anticipated and Remus almost didn’t catch the drops that cascaded over his wrist in time. Seton handed him a handkerchief which he used to stanch the flow momentarily until Black said a quick healing spell and his skin was once again whole. It tingled, the memory of a wound still seared deep, and he handed the bowl over to Endo with a slightly pained expression.

Cupping one hand beneath, Endo raised the blood to his nose as if breathing the bouquet of a fine wine. Frowning, he removed his glove, dipping one finger in and rubbing the red liquid between forefinger and thumb, bringing it almost but not quite to his tongue before pulling away in revolution.

“Black is right. Someone is trying to kill you.”

Seton grabbed the glass and vanished the liquid, setting it back on the table before crouching to look Remus in the eye. “When did your symptoms start? And what unusual things have you been eating or drinking?”

Shaking his head, Remus attempted to put his thoughts in order. It was almost impossible to think back farther than a day or two on his meals, though he could think of nothing out of the ordinary he had partaken in.

“I thought it just a cold, the coughing started a couple weeks back. As far as I can recall, I’ve eaten the same food everyone eats at meal times. Oh and drinks at the Three Broomstick with all of you.”

“But what of the headache potions you’ve been taking?”

All the men stopped and stared, frowning over Black’s words, curious men intent on solving a mystery. Remus pulled one of the small vials from his pocket. “I take them off and on. But you don’t think…” Remus frowned and looked to the men, stopping at Seton. “This is brewed by you.”

Endo grabbed the bottle swiftly, uncorking and sniffing the contents. Eyes widened and the man stiffened, holding the vial at arms length. “It smells contaminate, like your blood.”

Seton grabbed the vial, recorking it and studying it, rolling the glass between his fingers. “Madame Darby gave you this?”

Remus nodded. “She said you brew her potions for her.”

Still quite perturbed for someone who was currently being accused of poisoning, Seton ran a finger over the glass, worrying a thumbnail between small cracks he discovered in the surface.

“I did indeed brew this,” he confessed, but his tone was full of confusion. “But this bottle was unblemished when I gave it to her. This mark--this rune--is not of my making.”

Peering closer, all three men glanced at the crude maring on the glass, strange lines, an unfamiliar symbol.

“What could it mean?” Black asked but the others shook their heads.

“Get Puram, he’ll know,” Remus suggested. “But please no others. I don’t want to go about accusing anyone. Not until we know for certain.”

Nodding, Endo left the room accompanied by Seton, placing the vial on the settee beside Sirius. He picked it up, studying the rune before turning back to Remus. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly, touching his fingertips along Remus’ cheek. He leaned into the touch, his mood slightly lifted by even the light contact.

“Like a sideshow,” he sighed. It was one thing for Black to see him like this, but now another of his colleagues was going to barge in and see him in such a sorry state. 

Black gave him a sympathetic curve of his lips. “Can you sit up?”

Nodding, Remus straightened with Black’s help, feeling slightly less pitiful at least. “How did you know it was poison?”

“I wasn’t sure,” Sirius confessed, “But it never sat right with me, your diagnosis of tuberculosis. Having Madame Darby as a constant between your bouts of sickness was also a red flag, though I did not wish to outright accuse her yet.”

“But you believe she’s behind this?” Remus could not think of a single reason the woman who had been nothing but kind and caring to him would wish him ill.

“Have you not noticed the amount of students who have taken ill this year? I guess you’d have nothing to compare it to, it being your first year, but something is off. There’s too much sickness. Recurring sickness. Children seen in the hospital wing for broken bones returning with vomiting a day later. Kids suffering from charm mishaps returning with stomach aches.”

Now that he thought of it, there were a fair amount of students absent from his classes, but children get sick. 

“I hope I’m wrong, really I do. But tell me the Wallace children weren’t ill an abnormal amount. Especially for homeschooled children who did not often interact with others carrying disease.”

Damn, Remus was fearing more and more that Black was indeed correct. “They...they often were yes. Sickly children, that’s why I was hired as a matter of fact, so they wouldn't be exposed to others as frequently.”

Black sighed and shook his head. “There was something I read, an article in a muggle journal of medicine. A strange phenomenon in which people will induce illness for attention. The most common perpetrators seemed to be mothers and caregivers.”

Remus shook his head. It was all too much, too overwhelming. Madame Darby had never been anything but kind and nurturing, how could it be? Who could hide such a dark side in an occupation of so much light and hope?

His ruminations were interrupted when Professor Endo entered the room, minus Seton, but with Ancient Rune Professor Puram by his side. 

“Ewen went to fetch you a blood stabilizing potion,” Endo said, “And I explained your situation to Puram on the way. He’s eager to see the rune on this vial.”

“Very eager. Though I’m sorry of the circumstances,” Puram said, nodding and giving Remus a sad smile. 

“Thank you,” Remus said, handing the man the vial. He studied it, eyes bright with curiosity, tracing the markings with his finger over and over.

“It’s a very ancient rune. Not often studied or used. I don’t blame you for not taking heed when you saw it.”

“I didn’t even notice it until tonight. Tell me, what does it mean?” Remus asked warily, fighting off another round of coughing.

“Blight,” Puram said solemnly. “Decay, rot. The opposite of life.”

Shocked momentarily, the words triggered something in Remus and he sat up straighter with Black’s help. “If I drew a rune, another rune, would you know i’s meaning?”

“Probably.”

“If anyone would it’s Puram. He’s the one who mended my arm you know,” Black said fondly.

Shrugging, Puram attempted to look modest at the compliment. With only a small wince at the movement, Remus pulled out his wand and drew a rune in the air as best he could recall. Of course he could always bring in Professor Marlow, but he did not need yet another person in his makeshift sick room. 

“You see how it’s similar to the rune on the vial?,” Puram said, tracing the pattern, “This one is derived from it, changed over the years, but means the opposite. It’s the symbol for life.”

“Can it mean anything else? I know runes can often have many meanings.”

“The only other one I can think of for this particular rune would be life. Or one who gives life.”

“A healer?”

“Yes, that would be a fitting interpretation.”

Black gave Remus a quizzical look. “When Marlowe read my runes weeks back, he was unsure of the meaning, but if this is correct…”

“Don’t trust a healer,” Black said, as Remus had filled him in on the strange encounter shortly after. “Thank you Puram, you’ve been most helpful,” Black said, taking the vial back. “And please, I hope it goes without saying to keep this quiet.”

“Of course. Speedy recovery Lupin,” the man said before exiting the room. 

“I know you don’t know us well,” Endo said, bending to take a knee in front of Remus. “But I swear to you, Ewen means you no harm. He’d never hurt someone--with a potion or otherwise. He may be a bit grumpy at times but…”

Remus put a hand atop the man’s own cold one. “I know. Really. I don’t blame or suspect him. You both have been nothing but kind to me and I appreciate it dearly.”

Endo smiled, and though it was all fangs, it wasn’t menacing in the slightest. 

“Grumpy?” came a voice from behind and Remus looked up to find Endo standing in the doorway. “Now I really know what you think of me,” he sighed, walking in carrying two bottles.

“Well you are,” Endo shrugged and stepped aside. Remus envied the playfulness in their words, the hint of bite but without malice.

“Here,” Seton said, lifting the bottles for all to see. “This will clear your blood of toxins, you’ll feel almost completely improved immediately. Save your cough. For that you’ll take this, one tablespoon a day.” He uncorked both and took a drink of each. “Not poison, I promise.”

“I didn’t think they were. You’d make a pretty sloppy murderer to do so with this many witnesses,” Remus chuckled, taking the first smaller bottle and downing the contents. As soon as it hit his throat he sighed. The tingling cool, more akin to spearmint than temperature, spread through his veins, and Remus suddenly felt enlivened, light and efervescent, full of energy. His feet twitched, he felt like dancing again. 

“When do you plan to take your suspicions to the Headmistress?” Seton asked. “I’d like to add my testimony if you’d like.”

“That would be most appreciated. I think right after the ball, don’t want to cause a commotion,” Remus said and Black nodded his agreement.

“Right. Well, rest and find us later,” Endo said, leading Seton from the room with a hand on his lower back.

“We will.”


	7. Chapter 7

The moment the door closed, leaving them in solitude, Remus grabbed Black’s hands, pulling him to his feet.

“Dance with me.” He felt so alive, his veins humming with frenetic potential. A weight lifted from his shoulders, the poison eradicated from his body, a beautiful man in his arms. Remus embraced the strange pull of immortality that rebellious youths must experience as they steal their parents’ brooms before recalling consequences. But consequence be damned, Remus needed this. Black chuckled, warm and soft, allowing Remus to lead him around desks, chairs, and the occasional overturned book. 

“I see you’re feeling better.”

“More than ‘better.’ I feel...free,” Remus said as he flung out his hand to send Black into a twirl. The man threw his head back, laughing as long hair flew about his perfect features, then was pulled swiftly back into Remus’ awaiting arms. His back to Remus’ chest, they swayed to the soft melody reaching their ears through cracked stone walls and thin wooden doors. 

Remus found his lips could not resist the urge to kiss along Black’s neck, searching out heated skin below his collar, along the steady pulse, up to where his smooth jawline formed in perfect symmetry to Remus’ every fantasy. Ungloved hands strayed to Black’s hips, holding him close, swaying, easing up and down only slightly, tentative yet wanting so much more. Black issued a slight gasp, desperate and involuntary, and suddenly dancing was not nearly enough. 

Turning in his arms, Black’s eyes strayed to where Remus bit his bottom lip. Remus attempted to hold back a hunger he wasn’t sure would be accepted, let alone be reciprocated.

“Why do you hesitate?” Black asked, smoothing his silken thumb over Remus’ mouth, tracing the outline before pulling gently down on his bottom lip and pressing the digit forward until it hit the warmth of Remus’ tongue.

Remus tasted it, once, a quick flick, then pulled back with a shrug. “I realize you only asked me to the dance. I’d hate to overstep my boundaries.”

“Don’t play coy with me Lupin,” Black said, mirth in his eyes and the devil on his tongue, “You know as well as I that I’d happily bend over that desk at your very word.”

Breath caught in Remus’ throat, though for once he held it out of anticipation rather than sickness. His eyes turned up at the corners, pupils widening as he took a small step back, openly gazing up and down Black’s perfect willowy form. If that wasn’t a tent in the man’s trousers he’d be damned to hell itself. 

“I want to see you bared,” Remus whispered.

Black bit his bottom lip. “That can be arranged.”

Grabbing at the lapel of Black’s coat, Remus pulled them backwards until his thighs hit the desk behind him. He then sat back upon its surface, legs spread slightly with Sirius bracketed in the middle. 

“I may require some assistance,” Black said coyly, bringing his middle finger to Remus’ lips, the slide of black silk sending curious sensations down his spine, pooling in his groin. With careful teeth Remus bit the tip and tilted his chin up as Black pulled back, revealing manicured nails and slender wrists. He dropped the glove to the floor while Black threw the other to join its mate. When Black bent to kiss him it felt like forever and a moment compressed into one. Remus’ hands found the heat of clothed skin beneath Black’s jacket, running his hands up the other man’s sides until he met broad shoulders tensed in pleasure, pushing the expensive garment aside to lay in a black pool on the ground

Busy fingers shifted cufflinks from their lodgings, buttons from their waistcoat holes, mindless in their need to bare flesh and feel skin on beautiful skin. 

“I’ve wanted you since I first set eyes upon you,” Black whispered into the dip of Remus’ neck, words to send a shiver through heated skin as need raced south and caused his cock to stiffen in confining clothing. 

“I don’t easily fall to temptation,” Remus confessed, “but everything about you is simply irresistible.” 

With shaking fingers, Remus carded reverently through Black’s glossy hair, taking a handful of it and letting the strands slip like darkened smoke through his grasp. Then his mouth was upon Black’s once again, hungry, unquenchable, needing so much to form a connection that he could barely stand the separation. He pulled Black closer, wrapping his legs around the man’s lean thighs, feeling the press of a hard cock against his own. A moan escaped both their lips, mingling between a kiss before Remus tightened his legs, taking more, needing so badly to feel how much Black in fact wanted him.

Heat and hardness pressed between his legs as Black rocked slowly, tantalizingly against him. It was infuriating and yet glorious, all this want on the brink of fulfillment, and Remus wished it to go on as long as he could possibly stand. He decided to focus on Black--what a hardship that would be--and leave his desire as an afterthought, or surely he’d spill in his trousers much too soon and this dream would be over. 

With an upturned hand he traced Black’s side, his sharp hip, the top of a thigh, then over, slowly, a fingertip along the seam of his leg, the side of his groin, the length of a cock outlined in black. A gasp, pure and anguished, and Black bucked into his hand. He felt it all through thin fabric. The thick hot length, the rounded head, heavy bollocks as he ran his hand down to cup and memorize through touch, a future fantasy if his bed were to ever grow cold without this perfect man to grace it. Remus would touch himself then, remembering every kiss, every caress, the heat and need in Black’s eyes and the feel of that cock rutting against his body, thick with longing. But he need not think on that now. He had no reason for fantasy with such a specimen already in his arms.

Vest and then shirt were quickly removed and Remus traced his hand gently along the dark runes across the landscape of Black’s right arm. 

“Can you feel that?” Remus asked, worshiping the other man’s bicep, shoulder, and firm forearm with careful fingers.

“I feel everything,” Black gasped, wrapping his arms around Remus and dipping him to the desk, bending him back and kissing him soundly against the solid wood. 

Strong fingers tore at his cravat, discarding it and unbuttoning his shirt to the collarbone as Black then carved a path to the bared skin and devoured it with lips and tongue. Unable to see, relying completely upon feel, Remus snuck a hand down, touching the flat planes of stomach muscles, sharp hip bones, then the soft cloth like a barrier wall needing to be torn down. He made quick work of the button and clasp, pushing trousers down over firm buttocks, feeling soft skin untouched by light but worshiped in the dark. 

“I find it quite unfair,” Black whispered from within the joint of his neck and shoulder, “that only one of us has been divested.”

Propped up on his elbows, Remus laughed, pulling Black up to kiss him once soundly on the mouth. “So make it fair.”

With no hesitation Black quickly removed Remus’ jacket and vest, pushing them off his shoulders and onto the desk below. As he worked each button from his shirt, Black kissed his way down Remus’ chest, warm lips sending shivers against skin bared to the cool night air. Remus arched into his touch, feeling the press of Black, firm between his legs, both their bodies aching and eager for more. When finally Black reached the top of his trousers, the man looked up and grinned, wickedly licking his bottom lip. He kissed Remus once, below the navel, before righting and holding out a hand to pull Remus to a sitting position.

“Take them off for me?” he pleaded, running a finger along the hem, touching the top button of Remus’ trousers. Having Black look at him so wantonly gave Remus absolutely no qualms about standing naked in front of the other man. With a slight hop he got to the floor, noting that Black took his place sitting on the desk, watching him with greedy eyes. His trousers were undone in the front but no skin showed despite the obvious strain to the glossy black fabric made more evident in the rich gold of candlelight.

“How long has it been for you?” Remus asked, both wanting and not wanting to know the answer. The man seemed eager and Remus needed to fill the silence with noise other than their heavy breath as he reached to undo his boots then trousers, shucking them to the floor. 

“I’d like to say ‘since I met you,’” Black replied, a devout look in his eyes as he traced Remus’ exposed skin with his gaze. 

Remus sucked in a breath, knowing jealousy was unbecoming and yet hurt that Black had told him he had wanted him since meeting only to be with another.

“But it’s been far longer,” Black finished. 

Shaking his head, Remus let out a breath he held with hope and pain, allowing it to dissipate with his emotions into the rafters as his clothes fell to the floor. “Are you trying to gauge my reaction to your wordplay?”

“Perhaps,” Black said, reaching out a hand to guide Remus closer, a covetous grip on his hip, pulling him between clothed thighs that squeezed him tight. “And you?”

“Far, far longer,” Remus admitted, running a finger below the hem of Sirius’ trousers, teasing, touching, never reaching down enough for true desire. “No one wants a sick man.”

“But I would want you. Sickness or not,” Black vowed, one hand caressing his cheek as Remus ducked into his palm like it was his salvation. 

“Then take me,” Remus said, placing his hands onto Black’s shoulders to gain leverage as he pulled himself into the other man’s lap. His thighs braced Black’s own, feeling their hard muscles tremble beneath his body as he settled his weight. Hands found his buttocks, gently caressing then grabbing at him, causing Remus to smile against Black’s lips as he stole a kiss he was all too willing to give. Black was straining against him, so much desire as he rocked their hips together, trapping Remus’ cock against his stomach. Strong hands came forward, sliding from buttocks to thighs, up and down the plains of Remus’ skin, thumbs pressing into the place where thigh meets groin as Remus threw his head back with unveiled pleasure.

“How do you like it?” Black whispered hot words against his throat, thumbs pressing forward to stroke at the base of his prick. 

Not wishing to give voice to his naivety in the ways of loving a man, and having no qualms with whatever way they spent time in one another’s arms, Remus simply pressed himself further into Black’s eager body.

“I’ll let you lead,” he allowed, wrapping his arms around Black’s neck, giving him the freedom to do what he would. And though Remus had a fair idea what the other man might decide, he really had no qualms, knowing Black would make it good for him, would want him returning to his embrace and begging for more. Being a shirt lifter did not define him any more than his sickness did, he now realized, and if he could find peace and fulfillment in someone’s arms it mattered not to him what lay between their legs. Although, as he watched Black untuck himself from the confines of his trousers, he might rethink that momentarily.

With shaking hands Black grasped himself, pulling his reddened cock from between the unbuttoned front of his trousers. Longer, thicker than himself and somehow unquestionably more erotic than looking upon his nude body in a mirror, Remus gazed, mouth agape, overwhelmed with an almost instinctual urge to bury that length somewhere, anywhere in his body. 

“I promise to make it good for you,” Black said in a wavering tone, perhaps mistaking Remus’ silence for reluctance rather than the overwhelming nature of a desire he had never before felt for another. 

“I don’t doubt it,” Remus replied, reaching down to run an experimental fingertip along the newly exposed length with its siren call to touch. Black shivered, his cock jumping at Remus’ palm, greedy, beautiful in a way that made Remus’ arousal more heady. Despite never having the urge to touch another man before, he felt no reservations as he wrapped his fingers in a firm grip, hoping what he did in his own bed was anywhere near the sensations Black wished fulfilled.

He needn't have worried, Black arched into his palm like a magnet drawing in its mate. 

“How good are your preparation spells?” Black asked after Remus had let up on his cock. 

Non-existent was the word that came to mind, so Remus reached an arm behind him, propping his lower body up from Black’s own. “I’d rather you do it,” he said instead, which apparently gave Black no qualms as he flexed his fingers, drawing his wand into their grasp and muttering a spell soft under his breath. 

Remus gasped, wet heat and relaxation flooding his muscles, concurrent with the sense of euphoria present in his veins, but much deeper, a baser need to be filled and find fulfillment with another. A finger touched him, tentative and then with conviction when Remus eased into the contact, strange new and exciting. Black pulled him in for a kiss as he delved deeper, feeling as muscles relaxed further under the man’s expert touch, gasping as one finger became two then three and then he was achingly hard and pressing into Sirius’ fist for more.

Opening his eyes, Remus watched Sirius slick himself with a spell before holding fast to Remus’ hip with one hand and steading his thick cock with the other below. 

“You set the pace,” Black said breathily, strain and restraint evident in the veins at his neck, the slight sweat at his temples, the shaking of his fingers that gripped tight to Remus’ hip. 

With a nod Remus kissed him once, hard, full of resolve and determination, before looking down onto the fat cock currently positioned at his entrance. A deep breath, in and out, then he eased down, gasping at the fullness as the rounded head pressed into him, tight and intruding, yet also soothing an ache he could not otherwise ease. 

“It’s alright to go slow,” Black offered, clearly mindful, holding himself back for fear of overwhelming Remus in mind and body.

Remus arched his neck, face to the ceiling as he closed his eyes and breathed. But the further he pressed down, the better if felt, the exact opposite of what his logical brain told him as it screamed to stop, pull out, give up entirely. An inch, two, and Remus felt more alive than ever before. His cock was at full stand, straining against his stomach, leaking at the tip, and there was so much more of Black to fill him up. Feeling brash and eager, Remus took him in farther, quicker, groaning as he thrust himself upon the other man’s cock, his body taking it in like they were made to fit together. He forgot everything else, save pleasure and need, and pushed down, once, hard, and suddenly found himself crying out as he came all over himself completely untouched.

The wave of euphoria only lasted an instant and then mortification set in that he’d come before Black had even a moment to enjoy himself within him. “Damn it, I’m sorry.” He spoke into his hands, then looking down at his cum-splattered chest in dismay.

“Don’t be, I’m not.” Black took his hand and kissed it before pulling Remus into his arms, still seated inside him but not moving other than to wrap him as tightly as possible. “That was a sight to behold. Would you allow me to make you feel that way again or is it all too much?” Black said, running a hand through the fringe across Remus’ forehead to clear his eyes. 

“I...if you’re sure. I don’t think I’m quite...sated yet,” Remus said, glancing down. His cock was still at half mast and aching, not the overstimulation of orgasm but on the edge of a cliff and ready to jump, ready for more.

Black smiled at him, sweet but full of promise, and then he began to move. Hips met hips as Black bucked up into him, his prick stimulating sensations he had never thus felt in his attempts with other lovers. When his body felt sufficiently recovered from his first climax, Remus steadied himself with hands on Black’s shoulders, using them as leverage to ease his body up and down, giving Black that much more stimulation of movement within him. The man’s chest heaved, exertion battling with need, and more than once Black stilled completely, grabbing the base of his cock to still off an impending orgasm, a trick Remus would have to undertake in future endeavors. Soon Remus found himself simply being watched, Black doing little but rock slightly into his body as Remus thrust up and downward, taking him in fully, feeling the thick head penetrate him, surging inside and then the moment he bottomed out. He repeated it over and over as covetous eyes watched him work himself on Black’s arching cock. He hoped to be a memorable sight for Black, having no experience on what the other man might find favorable in a lover, and he was lucky to not have to fake the moans and sounds of pleasure that escaped him despite his intentions to remain quiet. 

Black did not seem to mind, encouraging him with wanton looks and bites to his bottom lip, a hand running up thigh and hip, often taking his cock in hand and rubbing his thumb from root to wettened tip. Lust-darkened eyes wandered his form, taking in Remus’ chest expanding with breath, the sheen of his skin, hands braced on desk and shoulder as his cock leaked and begged for final completion.

“You’re so beautiful,” Remus said in return for the gazes, unable to help himself, stopping mid thrust and simply threading a hand through Black’s long hair along the side of his head. He had not thought it possible for the man to become more flushed but he indeed did so, the rosy glow that darkened his chest and cock now spreading to cheeks and along his elegant pale neck. One of the man’s hands drifted to the solid base of his own prick, arching into his own touch, biting his bottom lip, a low noise issuing from his throat.

“Fuck, I don’t think I can hold back,” Black moaned and Remus could almost feel the tight squeeze of that hand as it attempted to stave off orgasm.

“Then don’t,” Remus breathed, his inner muscles clenching, taking in the erratic thrusts as Black released both his hand and his pent up tension upon him. 

He didn’t see Black move but felt himself suddenly flipped, back hitting the desk as the hands wrapped and kept him safe, spread his legs and braced his thighs on Black’s chest. Then the man was slamming into him, hard and fast and charged with urgency. Remus craned his neck back and cried out, giving in to these new and wondrous sensations, a whole new world of feeling awakened inside him from this incredible man who could play his body like the most intricate of instruments. And then Black hit that spot inside him that had made him come like a schoolboy with a crush, once twice, and he was spilling again, hot and fervent along his belly and Black’s chest. It was different this time, his entire body shuddered in its awakening, muscles clenched and nerves afire as Black took his pleasure. 

The man’s body seemed attune to his own, for just as it was getting to be too much, Black let out his own mirrored cry, body stalling as he buried himself to the hilt in Remus. He felt it then, his own cock twitching in a pathetic harmony as Black thickened and came within him, filling him before collapsing on his heaving chest. 

“Damn,” Black finally said, pushing onto his forearms and easing himself from Remus’ passage with care, bending low to kiss forehead then lips in wordless thanks. He pulled Remus to the floor then, half in his lap, head against his chest, and simply held him in a wrecked state of bliss. 

“I hope that was more than adequate,” Remus said, chuckling against heated skin as Sirius ran a hand through his messy hair. 

“Never have I wanted someone as I have wanted you,” Black said with a sigh as he rested his head atop Remus’ own. “And you? Was it memorable?”

Remus shook his head and turned in the man’s arms to raise an eyebrow at Black. “Well, seeing as it was my first time with a man…”

“What? You could have told me sooner!” Black exclaimed, giving Remus an exasperated look.

“What would have changed?

“I...I mean, well nothing but…”

“Then, I’ve told you now and it’s enough,” Remus explained, falling back against his chest.

“Could have fooled me,” Black muttered shaking his head.

“Well at least there’s that.”


	8. Chapter 8

It was long minutes before ether man had both the stamina and wherewithal to dress and right their clothes. They helped one another, fixing cravats, replacing cufflinks, doing up boots until each looked presentable and not as thoroughly fucked as they actually were. 

“We should find Headmistress Ravenclaw,” Remus suggested as he straightened Black’s jacket and smoothed the wrinkles with a spell. “I don’t wish to delay telling her in case it could save another life.”

“Of course,” Black said, running a hand through his hair before charming it flat. “We’ll tell her our suspicions and the rest is up to her.”

Upon their insistence to speak in private, Headmistress Ravenclaw brought both men to her office and they described the details of Remus’ illness as well as their suspicions of Madame Darby. Stately and still in her best dress robes, she sat with hands folded at her desk, frowning over each new shred of evidence the men dispensed. 

“This is highly alarming,” Ravenclaw said when finally they were done. “These accusations could ruin the woman, or if you’re correct, save many lives. I will need to contact the Minister of Magic to see what it to be done. In the meantime I shall relieve Madame Darby of duty just to be safe. Please be ready at a moment’s notice to be called as witnesses. Your testimony will be invaluable.”

“Thank you Headmistress,” Remus said, unsure what else could really be done.

“If you need time off for physical or mental healing, it is of course granted. Whoever the perpetrator is, you have suffered much and no one would think less of you.”

“That is most kind. But really, I’m well. I only wish to see justice served and health restored to any she may have affected. It pains me to think of these students as well as the children she may have poisoned while we worked together. I shall have to write to the Wallaces and attempt to find if they are well.”

“Oh.” A pained look crossed Ravenclaw’s features. “Lupin I...I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”

“What? Oh no…” Remus did not need the words to know what was about to be spoken.

“The Wallace family. The owls always returned when I sent them out for a reference. I had to pay a visit to the Ministry to find out the entire family had perished. Their bodies had been burned to prevent the spread of disease so no tests could be done even with magic. I’m so sorry, I thought you knew, I assumed that you and Madame Darby were the lucky ones who made it out alive.”

Fist clenched, Remus looked to the floor, fearing if he turned his eyes to meet another he might burst into tears. Years of teaching those children, befriending them as they grew, in awe of the personalities they took on and the wonder with which they viewed the world. All wiped out for some unfathomable reason. His heart ached.

A warm hand at his back steadied him though it did not quell the pain his his chest. “I believe rest might do Lupin some good right now,” Black suggested and Ravenclaw nodded.

“Of course. I’m so sorry to be the bearer of such news.”

Remus nodded and allowed Black to stear him from the room. His world was surreal, trance-like, the air felt thin and sounds were muted as they made their way to Remus’ rooms. 

“I understand if you’d like some time alone, but I’d much rather stay if that’s alright,” Black said, guiding Remus to sit on the side of his bed. 

“Please do,” Remus said with a weary sigh. He allowed Black to help him with his boots before curling up on the bed, unaware of anything else until a minute later when he felt a dip in the bed. Strong arms enfolded him, attempted to hold in the pieces of himself he felt had been shattered and torn to shreds. He sighed into the embrace and was grateful that Black asked nothing in return, for he could not give it.

* * *

The next night Remus was summoned to the Headmistress’ office. He journeyed up the winding stairs with heavy heart and found himself facing not only Ravenclaw but the Minister of Magic. Her dark eyes were heavy with purpose but surrounded by small laugh lines that he’d seen on many occasion in photographs as she smiled at children or signed an order promoting equality in the wizarding world. 

“Professor Lupin, thank you for joining us,” she said, her voice the clear and crisp enunciation of an orator. 

“Of course Minister,” he said, looking to find he was not the only of his colleagues in the room. To his right were Professors Puram, Seton, and Endo and to his left, by the Headmistress, was Black. The man gave him a small smile filled both with sorrow and warmth. Remus smiled back. 

“These men have already given their statements under Veritaserum. You are free to decline but, as you know, the evidence carries much more weight if given with the truth serum behind your words.”

“I accept,” Remus said, taking the proffered vial and downing it. The liquid glowed like warm milk down his throat and he could feel it tingling in his mind after less than a minute in his bloodstream. He was offered a chair and there gave his statement and answered the Minister’s questions. 

When he was finished, the Minister looked to Ravenclaw, her strong jaw firmly set. “I think we have sufficient proof to now question Madame Darby. Would you bring her in please?”

Nodding, Ravenclaw excused herself from the room and returning shortly with Madame Darby, looking flustered and shaken. Every instinct in Remus cried out to take the poor woman in his arms and tell her things would be alright, that this was all just a misunderstanding. 

Then she took the Veritaserum with no qualms and Remus became even more certain there must be another explanation. What criminal willingly confesses to a crime? Yet while initially her words were the kindly talk of the modest woman he’d known for over a year, they began to muddle, becoming disjointed and frightening in their intent.

“Is it not better to end a sickly child’s suffering?” she asked, eyes pleading, fervent in her determination. “It is my duty to help in any way I can, I took an oath as a caregiver, do no harm! If they are suffering I wish to end their pain, it is what all healers do, why am I being questioned for this?”

“And what of Professor Lupin? Did you knowingly dispense medication that would harm him?” the Minister asked in a neutral tone.

“Of course not. He’s a sickly boy as well, I only wished for him to not be in pain,” Madame Darby protested. Remus winced and turned away. This was his life she so callously talked of ending. He noticed Black glanced his way yet he could not meet the man’s eyes just yet. 

“So you deny etching this rune on the bottles that would change the contents?” The Minster held up one of the glass vials Remus had been unwittingly taking poison from for all these weeks.

“I said it was to help him, why should my compassion be questioned like this, I just don’t understand.”  
The more she spoke, the more Remus realized the healer had become unhinged at some point, reality blurring as an ailing patient became unworthy of life in her eyes. It was appalling to behold. Her cures had turned to curses as her mind warped, reality blurring until she even though she was doing good by killing. His heart hurt for her, but more so for the suffering she had unwittingly caused. 

In the end Remus couldn’t even watch as she was led away to await trial, hopefully never to set foot on the ground of the school again. He had to remind himself that she was sick, that something had broken in her mind, perhaps something that could be mended with time and skill, for otherwise his anger would take him into darkness in which he could not fall. 

With their part in the testimony ended, Remus walked with Black out of the room, knowing it was not his burden and yet carrying the weight with him nevertheless. No doubt sensing his mood, Black took the stairway up instead of downward, high into the lofty castle and out onto one of the many turrets that punctuated its heights. Stars dotted the depths of the heavens and Remus relaxed into the warm arms that enfolded him from behind. 

“What do you need?” Black asked, chin atop Remus’ head, wishing to secure him mentally as well as physically. Remus smiled and reached a hand up to stroke along his cheek. 

“This just this.” They rested for long minutes, the silence beautiful, punctuated by the soft hoot of owls and the laughter from dorm rooms below.

“And what would you like to do later?” Black asked, his tone low, seductive, not inquiring about dinner plans but something much more intimate. 

Before he could stop himself, Remus found his tongue already carrying out his thoughts. “Well, I’d like to take you to bed…” he clasped a hand over his own mouth before turning to glare at the other man. Sirius raised his eyes to the heavens like a dog attempting not to be punished. “Black, it’s unfair to take advantage of the Veritaserum still in my system.”

“Sorry, that was wrong of me,” Black chuckled, kissing his temple. “Really, what I wanted to know is what you think of my co…” Before he could finish, Remus turned swiftly in his arms and kissed Black soundly on the mouth, effectively shutting him up. 

The man’s eyes sparkled with mirth. After a kiss that was much more pleasurable than a silencing charm and just as effective, Remus leaned back to look up at the man who held him tight in his arms. 

“I was going to say ‘cooking.’” 

“Black, you’re the exact same rogue you were when we met, how I’ve ended up falling for you is a mystery,” Remus sighed and shook his head.  
“I really think it’s about time you called me Sirius, don’t you?”

“Since I can’t tell a lie, yes, it’s about damn time. For all of this,” Remus said, kissing him again.

Sirius brought a hand to Remus’ lips, touching them reverently after pulling away. “I couldn't agree more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who read this, it was such a fun labor of love and I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave me some comments if you liked my work, makes me so happy!


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